Elder Scrolls: The Ebony Ring
by JamesSilas
Summary: (Partially inspired by J. R. R. Tolkien's one ring from Lord of the Rings) When three mages of the newly founded Mages Guild; Rhonin, Arius, and Kressmer seek to prove their mastery over the arcane arts, their pursuit of power leads them to create a ring of incredible power. They will soon learn that they cannot handle the Ebony Ring, as well as the dark forces that hunt for it.
1. Arrival to Cyrodiil

Chapter 1: Arrival to Cyrodiil

Nirn, the Mortal Plain, Mundas, there are many names for the world that the vast and magical land of Tamriel resides on. The origin of this realm came at the hands of the Divines, the Aedra. Gods that the majority of the world worship. While they do not interfere in the affairs of mortals directly, those who believe in them will sometimes act in their names. The central continent, Tamriel, is the place where most of their followers reside. While it is but one part of the world, this is where the most well known historical events have unfolded.

Despite Mundas being but a grain of sand on a beach in comparison to all of creation, the world has gained the attention of many powerful, and sometimes dangerous forces. Time and time again, the tides of shadow and flame found their way to the Mortal Plane, but were always snuffed out. Through the efforts of many of Mundas's mortal races, their world remains intact. Of course, it's not always left in check and unaltered.

From the influence of godlike beings called the Daedric Princes, many events and cults were formed to spread their chaos. While few in number, their power compensates, and their very names hold weight. Each one of them desires something from the Mortal Plane. Some wish to conquer it, to merely meddle with it and it's inhabitance. In two specific cases, the lords of Oblivion wish to perfect it or bathe it in lunacy. Yet most of the time they will not take it upon themselves to cause mayhem personally but will use other means.

In few cases, these dark ones will bless their followers with an assortment of dangerous artifacts. Each one possessing a rare effect and power for its wielders. These relics, known as Daedric Artifacts would go on to corrupt many mortals and any who sought them out, or their makers.

However, among all these weapons and heirlooms there is but one artifact that stands out. One that is not of Oblivion origin, but is actually a relic born of Nirn. Unlike the other cursed objects of the daedra, this ring, the Ebony Ring was forged by the hands of mortals. A group of gifted mages united to pursue power and fame. However, before the abilities of this ring can be explained, the tale of those who made it must be told.

Our story takes place in the year 4E 190 in the Capital of Tamriel, the Imperial city of Cyrodill. It is here that the heart of the empire lies, and the central point where many of histories greatest legends were born. Upon first glance, it's most majestic detail is the White-Gold Tower, a skyscraper that appears to pierce the very heavens.

It is here that three gifted mages will mark themselves in the pages of history, by accomplishing the impossible. The first student of magic is Rhonin Mathys, a young Breton who excels at Alteration magic and Enchanting skills. Bretons are a hybrid race with the blood of both elves and man, who are known to be as gifted in magic as their elven ancestors. However, their Elvin nature is unnoticeable, making it hard to tell at first glance what they are.

Rhonin Mathys has always had an interest in the arcane arts. As a child, he would continuously read and learn what he could about magic. As time went on, his talents began to grow, it became more difficult to hide from his village. Realizing his potential, those few who accepted his nature pushed him to go to Cyrodill so he could adequately learn from the Mages Guild.

Now he stands inside the capital, looking up at the White-Gold Tower in awe, as the very sun appears to loom at its peak. His long brown hair falls into the hood of his blue cloak. He smiles brightly, mesmerized by the heart of the imperial city. Unbeknownst to him, a local stranger approaches from the side.

"A marvelous sight isn't it?" The stranger comments.

Rhonin looks over at the man, witnessing his shared interest in the tower. While doing so, the most noticeable detail is that he is an Imperial.

The Imperials are native to Cyrodill and are the race that makes up the majority of the empire. Typically they are tan in complexion but can also be darker in color. They appear to have a thinner structure and narrow jaw line. The Imperial who stands next to Rhonin looks to be a mage as well, wearing the robes of an adept magic user. His short, dark black hair glimmers in the suns rays.

"The names Arius Silver," the Imperial introduces himself, looking towards the other mage while holding out a welcoming hand.

"Rhonin Mathys," he shakes his hand.

"I didn't mean to startle you, I just can't help but look at the tower from time to time."

"Is this your hometown?"

"No way," Arius Silver answers with a shake of his head. "I just got here a few days ago, I hale from Skyrim, the frozen land of the Nords."

"Truly?" Rhonin asks, leaning his head forward intrigued. "I've never been there, what's it like?"

"It's cold," Arius chuckles, placing one hand on Rhonin's shoulder. "But not in good shape because of the war."

"That's right," Mathys remembers.

Silver shakes his head once more, smiling and patting the mage with his hand.

"It's nothing to fret over, I just don't like politics, so I came here to use my magic for less violent reasons."

"You're a mage as well, have you already joined the Mages Guild?" Rhonin questions.

The two begin to wonder the district, developing an instant connection as they chat. The townsfolk are lively, their cheerful commotion is heard in every corner of the current town square.

"Well I'm not with them yet, but I do have connections that will improve my chances," Arius Silver informs him. "I don't mean to brag but-"

"Of course, I understand," Rhonin sarcastically comments. "If I may ask, what type of magic do you specialize in?"

Arius halts in place, holding his arm out to stop Rhonin. "Want to take a guess?" Silver asks.

He lifts his right palm out in front of them. Purple and white energy manifests around his hand, dancing around his palm in the form of an open fire. With each second it glows brighter and extends outward. With a flash of light, an otherworldly, ethereal sword forms and hardens in his grasp. It's rigged, and fearsome design does not match any standard blade. Rhonin with his eyes wide open in awe stares at the razor sharp weapon.

"Conjuration!" He identifies, pleased with the spell.

"That's right, as well as Restoration," Arius replies, and just as fast as it came, the sword vanishes in the blink of an eye. "I've always had an interest in the powers of oblivion, of course for the right reasons."

"I can imagine the Vigilant of Stendarr doesn't appreciate your taste in magic, huh?" Says Rhonin Mathys jokingly.

"No need to imagine, I've heard it first hand because most of my family are in the vigilant."

Arius breaks out in laughter at the irony. Rhonin, on the other hand, shows slight concern for his new friend.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he expresses when placing a hand on Silvers' shoulder.

Arius's bright grin remains, assuring that he feels no resentment towards his loved ones.

"It's nothing to fret over, families tend to be the most straightforward people," Silver replies.

Their conversation is put on halt when they both simultaneously witness something troubling. The two mages stop in their tracks as they see from the distance two city guards harassing a Dark Elf.

The Dunmer, or most well known as Dark Elves by the rest of Tamriel are a race of elves that hale from the land of Morrowind. As their name suggests, they typically have a darker complexion compared to other mortal races of the earth, sometimes either having grey, or pale blue skin. The most noticeable detail is their blood red eyes. They usually don't trust easily, due to their prideful mindset, but when their allegiance is earned, they are loyal to a fault. Which Silver and Mathys would learn at this moment.

The two slowly approach the imperial soldiers and Dunmer, now being able to hear the conversation. This elf, in particular, had pale blue skin, and the same type of crimson eyes. His hair nearly matched Rhonin's, except he has a single braid on the right side of his head, and a goatee with a twist on his chin.

"I already told you, I'm not here to cause trouble," the Dark Elf says defensively.

"Say what you want Grey Skin," spouts one of the guards. "But how do you expect us to trust your words when your kind worship the Daedra?"

"And how am I to be expected to trust the Empire, when they have butchered countless elves under the name of a dictator?"

The guards find the elves words offensive and both simultaneously place their hands on the handles of their sheathed swords.

"With that kind of attitude, you're just asking to get locked up," one of the guards threatens.

The Dark Elf prepares himself for a possible altercation. With his hand pulled back, a dark blue orb forms in his palm. The Imperials do not take notice of this and have no time to, as Rhonin and Arius intervene.

"Excuse me," Silver calls out.

Both the guards and the Dunmer look towards him.

"May I ask why you are bothering my friend here?" Arius deceitfully questions.

"Your friend?" One of the guards asks.

"That's right," The Imperial points to the Dark Elf as he continues with his false claim. "How dare you show such disrespect to a friend of the Silver family?"

The mention of his family name leaves the guards silent and shaking nervously. Initially, the soldiers stand silently while breaking into a cold sweat, knowing they made a grave mistake.

"Silver?" One of the soldiers repeats.

Rhonin, amused, stands off to the side and watches the acting performance of his new friend. He attempts to hide his quiet laughter with his hand, but his face is too readable. Despite this, the soldiers miss this detail as well.

"That's right," Arius states arrogantly. "So unless you want me to report to the General himself about this, I recommend you be on your way."

The guards turn themselves toward Arius's and make a hasty bow to him.

"Of course," their voices synch together. Once they rise, they turn back to the Dunmer. "Sorry citizen, good day." One of the guards apologizes, while the other tilts his leather helmet head. Finally, the two rush away to avoid upsetting Silver.

Despite the act of kindness from Arius, the Dunmer does not display instant gratitude towards the fellow mage. While Rhonin and Arius grin at what transpired, the elf expresses dissatisfaction.

"I didn't need your help," he tells them arrogantly.

"Ah, of course, I know you didn't," Arius agrees cheerfully. He walks to the side of the Dark Elf, placing his arm around his neck and pulling him close. "In fact, a wise mage like yourself could have dispatched those two leather heads."

"What are you talking about?" The Dark Elf questions.

The latter looks over to Rhonin as he hears a fake cough come from the Breton. To his surprise, Mathys points down at his hand, reminding him that he still holds the magical sphere.

"Any wise mage knows that Illusion is the best, none violent way to escape trouble," Rhonin informs with a smirk.

Arius places himself in between Rhonin and the Dunmer.

"I suppose if we can't get a thank you for our honorable deed, perhaps we can at least get your name?" Silver requests.

The playful, kind tone from the Breton and Imperial makes the Dark Elf smile. He cancels the incantation in his palm and places both hands behind his back.

"Kressmer, Kressmer Midium," he introduces with a subtle bow. "I thank you for your noble intervention, but I get a feeling you want something in return."

Both Rhonin and Arius shake their heads to Midium's assumption. With a shared grin between all of them, the Breton sheds clarity on his and the Imperial's intentions.

"Not at all," he assures him. "We just noticed that you are a mage, and thought perhaps you intend on trying to join the Mages Guild."

"Indeed I am," Kressmer confirms. "But why do you want to know?"

"Well both me, Rhonin Mathys by the way, and Arius Silver here share the same interest. I practice Alteration and Enchanting, while he utilizes Conjuration and Healing." Rhonin approaches Kressmer, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder as he continues. "We saw a fellow mage in distress, and thought no mage should stand alone."

Kressmer Midium nods in appreciation. Mathys removes his hand just as Kressmer informs them of his talents.

"Well, you've seen that I can cast Illusion which is my specialty," he tells them. "but I would say that I am also reasonably skilled at Destruction."

While Rhonin finds interest in his knowledge of the two arts, Arius is left in confusion. With a tilt of his head, he makes an opinionated observation.

"That is strange," he states. "I could have sworn Dunmer typically had superior skill in Destruction?"

"We do," Kressmer confirms. "However, fire, frost, and lightning magic got dull for me, I wanted to see what else I could do. I mostly use that type of magic as self-defense and to scare the wildlife."

"Regardless, those two can be a handy combo. I would like to know more about what you know." All three of them now close to one another, Arius decides to offer a proposal.

"Well we've got plenty of time to pick one another's brains, but I say before we do, let's all get a drink and something to eat." Mathys and Midium look at him enticed by the offer. "After all, we still have until tomorrow to partake in the entry exam, right? Consider the meal on me."

Kressmer chuckles to himself briefly.

"You know what?" He questions, as he walks in between Rhonin and Arius and wraps his arms around both their shoulders. "I think I'm going to like you two."

"You know what?" Rhonin repeats. "I think I can say the same on my part."

"Hear hear!" Arius cheers in excitement. "Tonight we dine like kings, and tomorrow we celebrate as official Wizards of the Mages Guild!"

The three mages make their way to the nearest tavern. On this day, a chain of events has been set into motion, ones that cannot be altered or stopped. What starts as a fast connecting friendship, will soon change into a quest that will put them through a harsh series of choices and tests. How they will endure and take on these trials is has yet to be told, but what is certain, is that one such decision will leave a mark on Tamriels great history. When their journey truly begins, all of Nirn and beyond shall learn of their actions and of what came from them. They will know of their incredible accomplishment, they will know of the Ebony Ring.


	2. Entry Exams

Chapter 2: Entry Exams

After a grand night of drinking and dining, the three mages make their way into the halls of the Mages Guild. Unexpectedly, they are not the only ones who wish to join. Within a large, dark, dome-shaped room, Rhonin and his friends find themselves surrounded by well over a dozen other applicants of all races. All are wearing a color variety of either robes or nimble mage clothing. In front of them, a set of thrones atop a tall marble ledge looms over them. Currently, they are vacant, but still, a feeling of eyes watching them is felt by all who reside in the chamber.

Kressmer is calm, having no trouble dealing with the suspense of waiting. Arius, pretending to be relaxed, does not realize his minor hints of anxiousness. Such as turning side to side, twiddling his thumbs, and staring up at the ceiling. Rhonin, on the other hand, examines every aspect of the room, studying where they will be taking their test and how they may fare against their competition. The size of the chamber indicates that the Council will be expecting powerful and possibly dangerous magic. Runes and symbols are placed around the hall, on the floor, the pillars on the side, as well as where the elite members will sit.

"What do you think Rhonin?" Kressmer questions.

"There are fourteen others," he points out with a whisper. "It's hard to say how skilled they are, but based on their equipment and how nervous they are about the situation, we may have an advantage."

As he mentions, each one of the other applicants displays a small sign of anxiety. Few of them pace in different directions, some sit on the floor in the corners of the room with their heads down, while others stand still in a cold sweat. Their magic supplies are but a handful of tools and materials, small notebooks, and a minor variety of potions.

"I think we'll do just fine," Kressmer comments with certainty. He pats Arius in the back to calm him, but mistakenly startles him. Silver jumps at the sudden gesture of comfort but takes in short, hasty breaths to calm himself. Rhonin and Midium can't help but smile at Arius's reaction.

Just as the anticipation began to settle from all those who applied, a sudden bang from a gong rings in their ears. Simultaneously, the alarming sound forces everyone to look up at the marble stand from where it came. A set of massive wooden doors creak open. From it, three hooded figures emerge from the gateway. Their dark green, thick gowns and clothing disguise how they are physically, and the shadows of the room make it difficult to make out their facial features.

As the new magic council looks down on all entries, and every potential candidate, an uncomfortable weight of being looked down upon is dropped on everyone's shoulders. The room falls dead silent in the council's presence, even the nervous breaths of all the mages are hushed to less than a whisper. The only one in the room that remains diligent and presentable is Kressmer. With his hands behind him, and his stance straight, he stands and waits for an announcement. As he stares at the three hooded figures, he lifts a single eyebrow with mild fascination.

"Something feels off," he whispers to his friends. Rhonin and Arius look over to Midium. "Those people don't look like the magic council, are the others busy?"

Silver and Mathys glance at one another, the two realize that Kressmer does not know what happened to the original Mages Guild. While Arius looks back to the figures on the stand, Rhonin leans in closer to the Dunmer to give a brief history lesson.

"Well you see," he whispers while placing his hand on Kressmers shoulder. "After the Oblivion Crisis, the Mages Guild was disbanded due to the complaints of the people."

After taking a brief moment to ponder this information, all that Midium can do is place his hand over his face in disappointment.

"You've got to be bloody joking," he states with minor disbelief.

"Nope," Rhonin replies with a shake of his head. "Afterwards two groups were founded call the Synod, and the College of Whispers. The Synod only wanted to hoard magical items and spells to themselves, while the College wished to collect knowledge and keep it secret from everyone else. Both out for the same thing, but used different methods."

"But," Arius slips into the conversation, leaning and stepping next to them. "Both factions had resources the other wanted, so with the help of the College of Winterhold, all three are currently funding to try and establish a new Mages Guild." Gesturing towards the council members, all three now look back at the leaders of the Mages Guild. "Each one of them is a representative of the three factions."

As the two councilmen on the right and the left take their seats, it is the center individual who remains standing.

"Welcome," the grand sorcerer greets all in the room while projecting his voice. "Sons and daughters of Tamriel, we are most honored that you all have arrived."

With a snap of his fingers, a series of mage lights appear and illuminate the marble chamber. The runes and symbols activate, now glowing a variety of colors and channeling protective magic for their surroundings.

"As you all know, us mages have held a terrible burden on our shoulders, ever since the Oblivion Crisis! This skepticism even left the old Mages Guild in ruins."

Before the applicants can begin to mutter to one another, the Archmage lifts his hand to direct the rooms attention.

"Rest assured," he lowers his palm and plants in on the balconies edge. "The Synod, the College of Whispers, and Winterhold have banded together to undo the mistakes of our predecessors, as well as unsully the name of wizards across Nirn!"

As he continues his speech, he attempts to direct his face towards every person there.

"No matter your reasoning for coming here, rather it is for knowledge, power, understanding, or all of the above; The Mages Guild will provide whatever it can for you to pursue your goals, at least for those who we allow to join us!"

All the entries look among themselves, with few of them passing a whisper or two. Rhonin and his friends continue to focus on the councilmen's words, due to all three of them already knowing what he is implying.

"To ensure the college's success, we recruit only the most skilled of wizards for now. I presume you all know what test you will take. If not, I will give you a brief explanation."

Before placing both hands behind himself, the councilman uses the back of his hand to cover a hushed cough.

"Your trial is simple, show us the limit to your power and expertise in the arcane. Should your skill impress my fellow members and me, we will welcome you graciously. If not, I'm afraid we will have to remove you from the hall and ensure you can't retake the trial for another decade."

The crowd, all except for Rhonin and Kressmer begin to chatter among themselves in a panic over the pressure of failure. Even the light-spirited Arius finds discomfort over the possibility.

"A decade?" He questions with absurdity in his voice.

An assuring Midium pats the Imperial on the shoulder to calm him.

"Don't worry, we've got this," he whispers. "We are more than prepared, right Rhonin?"

"Indeed," Rhonin turns towards them as he pats the satchel that hangs from his shoulder. "I'm not too worried, and neither should you guys." He gives them a confident smile as he looks back to the chairmen.

"Due to the number of applicants, we will be doing the tests one at a time," the Archmage announces. "Everyone will remain close to the walls to keep a safe distance, and after each performance one of you will move to the center to take your turn." Spreading his arms wide and with his hands open, he gives his best wishes to all apprentices. "Show us your mastery of the Arcane arts! The Mages Guild looks forward to seeing your capabilities! Good luck to you all!"

As the councilman takes his seat, the mages below him all move to the nearest wall. With Arius, Rhonin, and Kressmer off to the side, the first person on the opposite side takes their turn. Throughout the hour or more, every mage shows the extent and limits of their powers. Each with their specialty, as well as their preferred style of arcane spells. Unfortunately, the weight and stress of failure is the crucial factor for most of the apprentices' downfall.

One after another, the mistakes in the smallest details of each incantation is what causes the most significant repercussions. Students of conjuration could not animate a proper weapon, either summoning a deformed lump of spectral metal, or a broken tool of combat that could not sustain itself. The atronachs that they attempted to bring out of oblivion suffered similar fates.

One such student, a young girl who has barely reached adulthood, wishes to display her skill in destruction. Specifically, she attempts to impress the council with her understanding of cloak spells. These types of incantations as the name suggests surrounds the user in elemental magic to ward off threats. Despite her confidence to step forward, her overthinking is her downfall. Just as she activates the first cloak spell, a column of fire and smoke envelope her. At first, everyone is alarmed by the sudden burst of power, but thankfully no one is harmed, including the girl. Instead, she is left with only minor burns and covered in black smudges of charcoal.

The council members all sigh at the same time with relief that no one was hurt. While the rest of the mages are baffled and speechless at the flames, all except for Kressmer who only buries his face in his palm to cover his displeasure. Sadly this would not be the last student to make themselves explode.

After an extended period, nearly every applicant has demonstrated their skills.

Out of the other fourteen that came, only two proved to be worthy, discluding Rhonin's group. Now made very clear to Rhonin and his friends, the trials took much longer than they had anticipated. Arius is on the verge of sleep as he leans against the wall, while the others are not too far behind.

"How long have we been here?" Arius asks fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Too long," Rhonin replies leaning his head downward.

"Who is next?" The center councilman asks, catching the attention of the three mages.

Arius springs away from the wall, waking at the moment to shine for the Council. He leans his neck side to side to make it pop, as well as his fingers by bending them backward.

"Watch and learn," he tells his friends as he looks to them with a proud look.

He walks to the center of the chamber with the councilmen's gaze upon him. Each member looks through a stack of paperwork, eventually leading to one of them finding Silver's name in them.

"Arius Silver," the female mage on the right states finding familiarity in the name. "I should have known someone from your family would be here, considering your connections."

Arius can sense a stern and unsettling look upon him. After a quick swallow to clear his throat, and a wipe of his sleeve over his forehead, he proceeds to clarify his entry.

"With all due respect, mam," he pleads with a bow of his head. "Whatever generous donation my family provided was, it was simply a means of getting me noticed." He lifts his head, the once anxious filled Imperial now has a sudden glow of courage. "It is my skill and resolve that will be getting me into the Mages Guild today."

The spark of courage catches everyone off their guard. The councilmen all mutter among themselves, all of which nod at fascination for his flip in emotion. While Kressmer and Rhonin talk to one another over it.

"It's amazing how he can be so confident, even though he was soo jumpy a few moments ago," Rhonin whispers.

"That my lad is called false courage, or false bravado," Midium gives his insight. "In truth, he is about as frantic as a dear surrounded by a pack of Sabertooths. He's just very good at hiding it."

As all bare witness to the Imperial's preparations, he takes deep and slow breaths to clear his mind of all worries. He holds his hands out to his side, with his palms pointing to the ground. As he releases one last, drawn-out exhale, violet and white energies course from his chest and envelops his arms. The magic of his spell builds in between his fingertips, with his eyes closed to concentrate as he crafts them to his will. With one synched swing of his arms, he claps his hands together, the calm powers now scatter and blast around him.

With the blinding light fading as fast as it came, two fiery maidens appear next to him. While they possess a similar shape to ordinary mortal races, their majestic, physical forms were out of this realm. Cindering horns curl from their heads, and shards of rock burn across their elegant and exotic bodies. Despite levitating a foot off the ground, the marble beneath them burns. Arius holds his arms out, with the atronachs of flame placing themselves in his embrace.

The council is pleased with his skill, considering he is the first to not only successfully conjure an elemental, but two in perfect shape. Even Rhonin and Kressmer are left stunned by the shocking display of Conjuration magic, but this was not his last spell to be used. His summoned servants depart from his hold and begin to spiral around him. As they do so, liquid golden lights pour from his right hand and spill onto the floor. Once directing the illuminating palm towards his atronachs, a stream of healing magic connects the two elementals. A circle of fire and light surrounds Arius in a dazzling performance. Rhonin is mesmerized, Kressmer is proud, and the master mages are left speechless.

Unfortunately, using such a taxing amount of Magicka leaves Silver drained very rapidly. As if running a marathon, his breathes become harder to make, and he is forced to slouch from the task. In his exhausted state, the fiery mistresses fade into dust, becoming piles of coal and fire salts next to him.

Even after giving such an impressive performance, a thought of disappointment prevents him from looking up to the Council. Shame that he had soo much trouble casting his spells.

The Archmage that has done most of the announcements rises, with his hands behind him he passes words onto the depleted mage.

"Conjuring two atronachs and a healing stream spell, very impressive," he congratulates him. "However, always remember that magic is not a toy, one must never recklessly use it, or else it can harm or corrupt you."

The compliment and word of advice are not enough to lift Arius's spirit. He keeps his head lowered in shame. While Rhonin looks to his friend in concern, Kressmer has a more positive outlook on the situation. Silver patiently waits to hear the councils decision. Though brief, the mages on the marble stand come to a definite answer. Even though the Imperial can't see it, the Archmage directs his hand to the opposite end of the room, and with a tilt of his head, he gives their conclusion.

"Proceed to the side of the stand, Arius," he preaches with approval.

Arius brings himself back up and looks to the heads of the guild. Their acceptance impacts his self-esteem and ignites excitement in his heart. Just by one sentence, the look on his face changed from one who was ashamed, to one overflowing in joy. Mathys is ecstatic for his friend passing, while Kressmer grins never doubting that Arius would prevail.

Silver bows graciously with haste to the Archmages'. Hastily, he rushes to the side with excitement and wishing not to stall the process.

"Thank you," he projects.

After rushing off to the side as requested, his friends only stare as he paces away in joy. Once he stands next to the other two successful mages, the council calls upon the next applicant.

"Who is next?" One of the three calls outs.

Rhonin and Kressmer look to each other to decide who will step up.

"Would you mind if I went?" Kressmer politely asks pressing his hand to his chest.

"The floor is yours," Rhonin gives a smile as he gestures to the center of the room.

Kressmer gives a subtle bow and walks to the gaze of the Council. Now in the middle of the chamber, within a beam of light, the leaders of the Mages Guild question him.

"Pardon me, but what is your name, Dunmer?" One of the guild leaders ask.

"Kressmer," the Dark Elf replies with a charming smirk. As he introduces himself, he crosses his arms behind him. Unbeknownst to the Council, with a flick of his fingers, he activates a small spell. A spark of white Magicka spirals around his hand for a brief second, only to vanish as fast as it came.

"Kressmer Midium, at your service," he bows and places the same hand he enacted the spell with on his chest.

"Kressmer?" One of the councilmen asks confused, being unable to find that name in her paperwork.

The member skims through a short pile of documents to find his name. His name is discovered conveniently on the last page. Unlike the rest, his name is written in red ink while everyone else is black.

"Ah here it is," she claims in relief. "And it would seem your specialty is in Illusion and Destruction. You don't intend on bursting into flames do you?"

"Of course not my lady, I intend to do something a little out of the ordinary."

"If there were a place for the unordinary, this would be the ideal location. You may proceed when you are ready."

After a quick nod, the Dunmer clears his throat and starts the incantation. At first, he leaves his hands hanging slightly outward from his waist. Within a few seconds, energy in the form of dense mist corses from his arms and into his palms. While flowing off his finger similar to a waterfall, he begins to raise his limbs at a slow pace. Kressmer begins to surround himself in the fog, as his reach becomes high so does his magic. Before he can extend his arms high enough, his spell submerges him and starts to take shape.

Before everyone's eyes, a mighty figure appears. An illusion of a knight, clad in platinum armor emerges. It stands eye to eye with the Council. The leaders of the Mages Guild lean back, completely stunned by the illusion. The giant warrior's hands rest on the handles of a greatsword, a blade taller than any man or woman. Rhonin and Arius gaze at it speechless, Mathys being hugely curious while Silver is very intimidated.

With its body overflowing with mist, the knight raises its blade. Everyone nearby at first finds this action worrisome, but their suspicions are silence right there and then. Once lifting the handle to its chest, the illusion slams the blade back down. Upon impact, a wave of fire burns away the mist but does not come near anyone it can harm.

With the illusion over, Kressmer remains oddly unscathed by it. However, having spent so much Magicka, he is forced to catch his breath. Still, he keeps his composure and remains standing presentably. None of the council members or the rest of the mages speak, or so much as make a noise. The Dunmer takes the silence as approval of passing and takes another bow.

"Thank you," he says humbly.

Already assuming he met their standards, Kressmer takes his time as he walks toward Arius and the others passing applicants. Silver only stares at Kressmer in awe, the impossibility of what his friend did leaves him without words. The Dunmer stands next to him but says nothing as he smirks, knowing that he impressed everyone.

"Umm," The Archmage is too baffled to reply to Kressmer's actions. "N-next please..."

Despite knowing he is the last mage to take the test, being called out by the council still startles him, he flinches at the request. A part of him is nervous, while the other piece is inspired and happy to go. With a clash of emotions going on in him, he still pushes himself to step forward. As he takes his stand where all the others have, he takes in one last, deep breath to calm himself before looking to his superiors.

"Rhonin Mathys," the elder council member on the left calls out from the documents in front of him. "A young Breton? It's wonderful to see more of you returning to your magical roots."

"Uh, thank you," Rhonin replies, still shy about the interaction.

"And it would seem you're specialty is in Alteration, looks like I won't be the only one after all."

The awkwardness of not knowing how to respond immediately leads Rhonin to merely rub the back of his head with a smile painted on his face. He chuckles and relieves the tension by making idle chit-chat.

"I-I guess that is good to hear, Mr?" he asks curiously, but also wishing to procrastinate the test.

"Oh please, please," the councilman responds modestly. He lifts his hood to reveal himself.

The master mage is perhaps the oldest of the three Mages Guild leaders. His long, dark grey hair and thick beard glimmer by the lights around them. A set of hair ties and braids keep his hair from covering his face. Oddly enough, while the other applicants would not take notice except for Rhonin, this mage has Heterochromia. Where both of his eyes are separate colors, which Rhonin finds fascinating. With his right eye being hazel while the other is blue.

"Call me Tolfdir," he introduces cheerfully.

"Uh, of course, Tolfdir," Mathys corrects himself.

Rhonin knew that he could not stall, and he had to go through with his spell. Fail or success, he had to try at least or live to regret it. He shakes his arms and makes himself as alert as possible, waking up every sense and fiber of his body so he would not make any mistakes. While he is preparing, Tolfdir has but one last thing to say.

"Remember," he begins to pass his words of wisdom. "Do your best, and do not fret. I believe in you."

The other leaders of the guild look over to Tolfdir. Although their faces aren't visible, the tilted motion of their heads makes it evident that they are confused. The elder wizard only smiles to them before looking back to the Breton.

It is Tolfdir's words that allow Rhonin to become clear of mind and to be ready to perform his spells. Like Kressmer, he puts his hands to the side of him to begin drawing power. Only this time, Rhonin draws out an emerald green energy, but not from his body but his surroundings. The Magicka flows to him, dancing around him like the winds of a blizzard on a mountain. Once his arms reach the height of his shoulders, he claps his hands as hard as he can. The channeling powers spiral in all directions, forming into a set of random shapes in the ground.

Now surrounding Rhonin is runic symbols that represent every school of magic, turning the floor into an enchanting table. Enchanting tables are used by mages to apply magical effects to any item of their choosing. These sigils make it to where the enchantment is possible, no matter what type. Of course, an enchanter will need to use other components to make his/her desired effect work properly.

"What did he just do?" Arius asks in disarray.

"What Rhonin just did was ensure his entry into the guild," Kressmer whispers implicitly. This wild assumption makes Silver look over to his friend in shock. "He just changed the floor around him into a massive enchanting table, to alter your surroundings with pure Magicka is not very easy."

"Well, I can make a sword with my Conjuration, and that's considered a beginners spell," Arius points out.

"That's different; you're summoning a blade already made from oblivion into your hand, while Rhonin has thought of every detail of an enchanting table and brought it to life."

"But why?"

As they both watch too see what Rhonin's next move is, they notice that he now rests on one knee and is retrieving items from his satchel. Among those items are four small, glowing, violet crystals, and a silver ring. These rocks are known as soul gems and are one of the principal regents to power enchantments, using souls from within them.

"He intends on doing an enchantment right now," Kressmer acknowledges with intrigue.

Rhonin places the ring at the center of the sigils, then puts the rocks at different corners forming a box around the accessory. Lastly, he illuminates his pointer finger with a minor spell and begins to mark each stone with random inscriptions. As fast as he can, he hops from each crystal to finish his writing. Finally, with another clap of his hands, then slamming them down, he activates the symbols to perform the enchantment, each one glowing a different color.

In the blink of an eye, the stones vanish as well as the animation Rhonin has made. All that remains is the single ring, and a tired Rhonin hanging over it. As a faint glow looms around the jewelry, Mathys picks up the item and displays it to the council.

"Behold," he projects with little breath to spare. "A ring possessing four enchantments."

The representatives of the Mages Guild lean forward to see for themselves if it's true. All the applicants do the same, Arius is again stunned by the display, while Kressmer is minorly impressed. Rhonin takes it a step further and places the ring on his pointer finger.

"This jewelry is now capable of giving me a resistance towards the forces of nature. Such as poison, frost, fire, and lightning," Rhonin explains loudly for all to hear. "While only to a minor degree, it's still useful, especially if I was traveling."

Tolfdir and the central leader of the guild look to the female mage next to them.

"Is this true?" Tolfdir asks, believing it but curious none the less.

Her right hand is held up. Her eyes glow white as she uses her magic to examine the ring from a distance.

"It is true," she tells them in awe. "I can sense the Magicka of four different effects emanating from it."

All are amazed by the results, the council mutters among themselves. The other two passing mages talk between one another in a hushed tone, and even Kressmer and Arius have a few words to pass between one another.

"Remarkable," Kressmer comments.

"Yeah," Silver responds, his eyes widened by the achievement.

Rhonin remains standing and showing off the ring. No longer is he anxious or stressful about the test. At this moment, all he feels is pride in his accomplishments. So many years of his life spent towards this day, and none of it went to waste. All that time burying his face in books, all those days of practicing minor rituals in the fields, and every year he had spent perfecting his craft had finally paid off.

However, there is but one thing off in that room. The ring on his finger has begun to crack. Once taking a closer look, he realizes the circlet cannot endure the magic of the enchants and is slowly breaking down. In haste, he yanks the jewelry from his finger and hurls it into the air. Not a moment later, the ring shatters into thousands of glimmering flakes of metal.

Instead of being concerned over what transpired, everyone sees this as Rhonin's intention. While everyone stares at the sparkling remains of the ring, Mathys stands in shame for not pulling off the enchantment. Before anyone can point out his behavior, the Archmage rises with his fellow leaders to make an announcement.

"All applicants to the center of the room," he requests humbly.

As asked, the passing scholars meet up with Rhonin at the center of the chamber. Each standing next to the other in a perfect horizontal line in front of the court. Arius grabs excitedly onto Rhonin's shoulder with a bright smile on his face to congratulate him. Once he moves next to him, Kressmer follows suit. Placing one hand on Mathys's shoulder, giving a subtle nod with a proud smirk, then patting him before standing next to Silver. In truth, Rhonin is full of regret but can hide it more comfortably, due to the support of his friends.

"Congratulations mages," the Archmage praises. "Among almost twenty of you, only you five proved to have the skill, the knowledge, and the understanding to master your craft."

"It will be this generation of mages that will restore faith in our community, and to give all magic users a good name once again." the councilwoman wishfully hopes. "The sins of the past shall be forgotten with your help."

"And with all of our efforts, we will carve a bright and noble path into the future," Tolfdir expresses the same desire. "We look forward to working with all of you."

"And without any doubts, it fills us with pride to welcome you to our order," the Archmage compliments.

This generation of mages would be the ones the world would never forget. For among them lies the three unlikely scholars that will accomplish the impossible. Rhonin, Arius, and Kressmer all stand proudly atop their achievements, not knowing where their pursuit of knowledge and power will lead them. The actions of these few mages shall affect the fates of many, the Empire, and all of Tamriel will never be the same.

For now, they shall relish in these moments of triumph. The leaders of the Mages Guild hold their hands out welcomingly towards the new members of their organization. Synching their voices together, they speak only one befitting sentence for this occasion.

"Welcome to the Mages Guild!"


	3. A Fated Alliance

Chapter 3: A Fated Alliance

A massive set of wooden doors creak open by cities guards to guide the passing mages outside. Kressmer, Arius, and Rhonin follow out the other two successful applicants. One of them being a female Breton, and the other a male Bosmer. Bosmer or Wood Elves are an elven race that hails from the tropical wilderness of Valenwood. Their people are known to be very peaceful and to be very well in tune with nature. They typically are well known for being excellent archers and good thief. Like other elves, they possess pointed ears as well as eyes that are dark in color, and their skin tone can match the trees of their homeland.

The two halt and wait for the other three mages to catch up. Rhonin is the first to spot on to the girl and elf. He holds his hands out to stop his friends from walking into them.

"Well, that was quite the display you three put on," the female Breton commemorates.

"Indeed," the Bosmer agrees showing the same respect. "I believe we'll all work well together."

The unexpecting and uplifting comments make Arius, Rhonin, and Kressmer nod their heads to one another. To prevent being rude, the three take a quick bow to pay back the appraisal given to them.

"Thank you," Rhonin replies cheerfully. "Your performance was illuminating as well," all three lifts their heads. "Mirabelle was it?"

"Mirabelle Ervine, a pleasure," she introduces with a smile.

"And I'm Enthir," the Bosmer adds with little enthusiasm. "With your four's skill in magic, you'll build up quite a reputation around here."

Rhonin is left shy at the compliment, scratching his head and looking away. Arius poses with a bright grin across his face, and Kressmer chuckles in his usual, proper position.

"I could use friends with big names," Enthir states in a professional manner. "Between all of us..." He gestures with a wave of his hand for all of them to bundle into a tighter group.

The concerning confusion of what he intends clouds the air around them like an overpowering odor. Despite this, they all get closer to him, giving him the opportunity to whisper without drawing attention from those around them.

"If any of you need hard to get supplies, I'm your guy," he informs them with a hushed tone. "As a friendly request, be sure not to tell anyone, I don't want the unwanted attention."

Enthir coughs into his closed fist as he takes a long step backward. The others instinctively follow suit, a second of silence follows before Enthir covers up his secrecy.

"Well I best be off, I have "business" to take care of," he excuses bluntly.

As he marches away with haste, all of their eyes follow his movements without any subtlety. A simultaneous leaning of their heads makes their interest less than obvious.

"Alright," Mirabelle comments questioningly while they all straighten their necks. "I'm not entirely sure if I'll be interested in what he's selling."

"Well, I suppose if it's not illegal, or dangerous I'll be fine with it," Arius claims thinking on the brighter side.

"Any spell or regent can be dangerous if used or misused properly," Kressmer tells them with certainty.

"Uh, thanks for your input," Silver looks to him with mixed feelings of disturbance and interest.

Midium merely gives a small salute with his pointer and middle finger in response.

"Well, I suppose I should leave as well, I'll see you all tomorrow," Mirabelle tells them as she takes a yawn and leaves them. Unlike Enthir, she struts away with a posture of someone believing themselves high and mighty. In that quiet moment, an epiphany erupts in Mathys's brain.

"That's right! I didn't even think about it," Rhonin recollects as he smacks and presses his hand on his head. "Until the living quarters are ready for all the members, I'm going to have to sleep at the nearest inn for the next few weeks." His head lowers in shame as he sighs heavily. "That's going to be expensive."

Midium pats Rhonin on the back, but his simple act of comfort has no effect on his friend's spirit. Arius, on the other hand, begins discretely chuckling to himself.

"Why would you spend your night's at a tavern?" He rhetorically asks to tease his friend.

"It's not like I have a place of my own around here," Rhonin replies overly distressed.

"Are you sure about that?"

Mathys gradually raises his head back up to look at Arius, at the same time, Kressmer faces the same direction having thoughts towards Silver's hint.

"What do you mean?" Rhonin questions, distracted from his ill mood.

"Come with me," Arius requests gesturing with his fingers.

The Imperial begins excitedly moving away from them and heading to the exit of the city, Rhonin follows behind with just as much haste. Kressmer, having concern for the two mages cheery demeanors tilts his head as they move away. Arius and Mathys take notice to Midium's hesitance, halting in their tracks and looking towards him before calling out to him.

"What? Do you have somewhere else to go?" Arius questions, with confidence that he already knows the answer.

"Nowhere you'd want to go!" Kressmer projectingly claims with a peaceful tone.

"Than come on!"

To prevent spending his stamina, Kressmer merely speeds up his casual walking. Once catching up, the three move together at an even pace.

A few miles out, far beyond the lake that surrounds the city and with the sun setting just over the mountain horizon, the group reaches their destination. With the Imperial Capital in view, the mages end up standing on the side of a massive, lush green hill. Arius is the first to arrive, having only breaking a slight sweat from the travel. Rhonin not too far behind is struggling to keep up, once making it to Silver, he drops himself onto a nearby, fallen log to catch his breath. Just as if being splashed in the face with water, the Breton face is soaked in sweat, with his throat dry as he breathes heavily.

Kressmer follows just behind him, but unlike the other two, he suffers no fatigue from the hike. He takes a seat right next to Mathys, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You really need to exercise Rhonin," he gives his blunt, constructive criticism. "Magic can't fix all of your problems."

Raising his pointer finger in response, Rhonin does not look eye to eye when responding, pantingly.

"Not, yet..."

As he rests, his sweat soaking hand reaches into his side satchel. From it, he takes out a vial containing a thick green liquid. As he lifts his head back up to drink it, Arius awaits them on top of a boulder.

"Hey guys," he calls out with a grin. "We're here..."

The two look up to Silver but are instantly drawn to what's behind him. Residing next to a flat side of the mountain stands a wide, mage tower. Thick, curved plates of Dwarven steel holds the foundation as they pierce the earth, with smooth concrete to form the solid walls. The top floor of the building resembles a shortened observatory, with tinted glass as the roof.

With all three of them rested enough, they proceed to march up the dirt trail leading to the doorway. With each step the mages take, the suns rays vanish behind them as it sets behind the mountain.

"What is this place?" Rhonin questions, admiring the impressive architecture.

"Welcome to my fortress of solitude!" Arius bursts out with his arms open in praise. "I had this place built and furnished before the trial today, my own little headquarters to call home."

Both Rhonin and Kressmer stop in their tracks in shock of the Imperial's arrangements. Arius also halts right at the entrance; his cheery persona glows as he looks back to them.

"You had your family build you an entire mage tower to yourself?" Rhonin questions in disbelief. "How much money do you guys have?"

"Enough..." Silver answers, smirking at his friends' curiosity. "There was no way in Coldharbour that I would be sleeping at a crummy tavern, and no way by the Eight that I am letting you guys either."

Mathys is full of cheer at the generously hinted offer, while Midium is humbly pleased as if expecting it. The Breton grins with his arms crossed and the Dunmer does the same, except for rubbing both sides of his hairy chin with his fingertips. Arius turns back to the tall, wooden doorway and pushes it open.

A soft breeze slips through them when the tower is open, a cooling and gentle touch welcoming them. The three enter, together in one close-range group when stepping inside. As they pass through the doorway, they find themselves in a round room that serves as an entryway to three other sections of the first floor. While they stand in the center, Kressmer studies the area by peering into the left corridor. The burning furnace illuminates a well-organized kitchen, stone counters lined in dwarven metal, and a long oval, wooden table with a few tall chairs.

Rhonin observes into the room on their right, while very dark, he can make out the details of an empty library. Its high reaching shelves have nothing but a thin coating of dust on them. The thought of filling them entices the mage, giving him an expression of anticipation.

In front of the three, lying in the final open area is a set of spiraling, metal stairs. Arius turns to them as they study the first floor of the tower.

"What do you guys think?" He asks in hopes for high approval.

"I think I'm going to like it here," Rhonin anticipates when turning back to him.

"If you can find a place for two extra beds, I think We'll be quite cozy here," Midium compliments with feedback.

"Not a problem," Arius assures with a shake of his head. "But there is still one more thing I want you guys to see."

With a backward wave of his hand, he gestures for them to follow as he glows with excitement. He walks forwards with haste, Rhonin and Kressmer follow just behind him. They all begin marching up the staircase one at a time, with Silver leading the way.

Once reaching to the top floor of the tower, the mages find themselves in a perfect working environment for a mage. All of their eyes wander to each part of the room. More shelves for books, tomes, and notebooks can be found. A single enchanting table dimly glows at the side, and an emerald orb atop a monster skull dazzles the area it's at. A small, spiral stone shrine to the Aedra god Julianos sits at the end of the room, with a black, pyramid-shaped totem on it. Even stone statues to practice destruction magic at are placed around the chamber.

At the heart of the room, a single beam of light from a skylight touches down at the concrete floor. Arius is stricken with a sense of pride for the design of his room, with Rhonin speechless by the craftsmanship. Kressmer stands near the center, gazing at the darkening sky and roof with slight interest. His eyes follow down the solid glass walls, eventually focusing straight through them to see a porch that circles the top floor. Once doing so, his gaze catches one minor detail.

"You sleep up here?" Midium questions when pointing out a single bed.

"Of course," Arius answers when stepping next to him. "That way I can work long hours and throw myself onto my bed. The Next morning, I can wake up and get right back to work."

Rhonin stands between them, also taking a quick look at the single bed.

"So," Arius begins addressing with a clap of his hands. "Unpack your things, and make yourselves comfy. You two can conjure up your own beds, right?"

The other mages turn their heads swiftly to Silver, both left in the fog by his humorous question. Arius, unable to fight the urge to smile shields his mouth with his hand. His actions to hide his mood make it all the more evident for his fellow mages. Both baring a face as dull as statues, they glance at one another and with a nod come to a silent agreement. Splitting off into different parts of the room, the two rub their hands as if about to enact a spell. Arius's focus rapidly switches between the Dunmer and Breton, believing them to actually be performing such a feat he urgently interrupts them.

"I was joking," he projects to them with his hands out.

Rhonin and Kressmer share a grin of amusement for playing along with the joke. Silver clears his throat to mask his exaggeration.

"I have extra beds," he says in a calm tone.

"Why would you have-" Mathys begins to ask before remembering Arius's wealth. "Never mind..."

Night has fallen upon Cyrodil, the entire valley left in a calming shadow. Numerous bright stars and constellations litter the heavens, leaving a sight that many would call a view from eternal paradise. The two moons of Nirn, Secunda, and Masser orbit overhead so closely that grasping them feels like a possibility. All is quiet, and even the large city appears dark and empty from its silence, only having a few soldiers on patrol with torches to light it.

Miles from the Imperial capital, the three mages have made themselves at home within Arius's mages tower. Only a few candles light the inside of the observatory, leaving the building unnoticed by any far-seeing eyes. Rhonin, standing at the balcony, stares in delight by the divine lights in the sky. In this moment of charm, warm thoughts in the cold night arise.

"After all this time, I finally made it," Rhonin tells himself proudly. "I knew that many doubted that I could do it, but now I can feel at peace knowing I've proven them wrong."

The voices of his friends catch his attention, he takes a look back through the glass wall to see them. While Kressmer remains as collected and serene as always, Arius is energetic and charismatic over their conversation. Unable to ignore his curious tendency, Mathys decides to return inside. When opening the crystal clear door, he finds himself automatically apart of their topic.

"Enjoying the sky Rhonin?" Arius asks sharing the same feeling. "No matter how many times I see it, I'll always be mesmerized by it as well."

"Well," Kressmer begins putting in his own opinion. "The Aedra could have arranged Lorkhan's corpse better, but who am I to judge their design."

The three of them share a laugh by the comment. Rhonin takes a seat near them, now all three form a circle as they chat.

"The great moons Secunda and Masser, I get it," Silver follows, continuing his laughter.

With the group sharing in the humor, they each take up a mug as they relax and continue chatting.

"An expert mage, art critic, and a historian," Rhonin insights about the Dunmer. "You didn't strike me as the type to have so many interests."

"I've lived longer than you could guess," Kressmer informs them before taking a drink of his ale. The carbonating liquid drips through his facial hair, without any concern for making a mess he pats his beard with his long sleeve. "It's only natural that I've developed a few hobbies."

"Yeah like your magic," Arius compliments patting the Dunmer on the shoulder. "That Illusion spell left me speechless, I was scared even though I knew it wasn't real."

Silver takes a swig from his mug as Midium chuckles when accepting the praise from him.

"Well, I'm not the only one who deserves to be recognized for their skill," Kressmer modestly states. "After all your flexibility with your Conjuration and Restoration magic should be noticed."

"Or Rhonin with his Enchantments and Alteration skills," Arius adds pointing at the Breton.

Rhonin looks downward, despite how pleased his friends are, the look of disappointment tells them he does not feel worthy. With a shake of his head, he adds reasoning for this way of thinking.

"I don't know about that," he tells them in doubt. "It didn't go as planned, my enchantment failed despite all the time and effort I put in to make it perfect."

He takes a gulp of his ale, a stream of it running down the side of his chin. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he remains facing the floor. Yet, Kressmer who sits right beside him refuses to let his spirit remain low. Nudging him with his elbow, the Dunmer has his own words to say.

"There is no such thing as perfection Rhonin," Kressmer passes his words of Wisdom. "To strive for what doesn't exist is the equivalent of intentionally getting lost in a foggy forest at night."

"He's right," Arius agrees, drawing both their attention to him. "You did fantastic today, we all did!" His arms flail high as he preaches their accomplishment. "We ain't drinking expensive ale because I feel like it!"

The three burst out in laughter, full of joy not only from Arius getting tipsy but from their shared thinking. Even though each one of them had their complications, the shame from their minor mistakes leaves their minds.

"Indeed, this is a celebration!" Kressmer announces with cheer as he raises his mug to them.

"I can most make a toast to that," Rhonin replies, lifting his cup as well.

All three of them bang their mugs together, they yell at the top of their lungs filling the room with their echoing voices. Simultaneously they drink from the fizzing ale that drips from their mugs. A pleasing sigh leaves their throats in synch. Kressmer is the first to place his cup down and the first to bring up a lingering topic.

"Speaking of," he draws both their attention. "How did you manage to create such a ring?"

Arius, having the same question also places down his mug and looks at the Breton. Rhonin does the same, for a few seconds, he must think hard due to the effects of the alcohol on his mind.

"It's hard to explain..." He tells them, feeling uncertain they'll be able to sit through the whole story. "But I messed up somewhere, it must have had something to do with carving into the soul gems."

Both now placed in a mindset of confusion, Kressmer, and Arius lean closer to him, showing their concern for the peculiar experiment.

"Did you say carve into the soul gem?" Arius questions the unorthodox method.

Rhonin being weighted down by the awkward tension of his fellow mages scratches the back of his head and glances away.

"Yeah, It's an experiment," he shyly tells them.

Despite the sudden interest of his friends, the Breton pushes through his introvert tendencies to give them an explanation.

"As you guys know," he starts speculating their knowledge after building up his courage to speak. "When it comes to enchanting, people will either inscribe the desired enchantment onto the item of their choice, or they will project it from their minds onto the enchanting table."

"Yeah, but the second method is complex and can rarely ever be done properly," Arius speaks about the second option.

"True," Rhonin replies with a finger raised. "And no matter which method you choose, you are limited in how many enchantments you can add."

During the explanation of his research, a buried proudness slowly emerges. Mathy's words grow in charisma, his enlightening free spirit comes forth.

"As for me, I learned a way to add several enchantments to a single item," he claims with slight boastfulness as he tugs on the collar of his shirt. "By inscribing the soul gems with the enchantment instead, I was able to apply the magical properties directly onto the item of my choosing. Without wasting time, and utilizing my resources to the fullest."

Arius and Kressmer fall silent when told of this method, the Imperial is in shock by the effects while the Dunmer is full of intrigue.

"I-I didn't think that was possible," Midium tells them.

Kressmer's comment reminds Rhonin of the unsuccessful experiment during the trial. Another deep sigh ensues from him as he recollects the events.

"As of right now, it isn't," he tells them no longer ecstatic.

Reaching down to his feet, Rhonin grabs the satchel that was across his shoulder before. Dropping it onto his lap, and unbuttoning the poorly sewn flap, he retrieves a small, old leather journal. His friends lean in closer as he unwraps the linen wraps keeping it closed.

"Every time I try, either the enchantments are very weak, or as you saw the ring is unable to contain the energy." He explains, upset over his failings.

With the pages open for all to see, Rhonin mopingly stares at the writing and pictures within. He takes in a long drawn out breath as he thinks to himself, wondering why his spell failed. While fighting his doubts within him, a helping hand reaches out to him. Looking up, he sees Kressmer and Arius smiling at him.

"May we take a look?" Kressmer asks with his casual smirk.

Amazement over his friend's generous offer leaves Rhonin speechless, his eyes glance back and forth between the two. Without much time to think it over, he steadily hands the journal over to Midium. The Dunmer holds it with both hands, allowing him and Silver to read it together. After rubbing his eyes roughly to make his vision more clear, Arius makes an observation.

"Well there's your problem," he calls out when spotting a minor detail. He pushes his finger down on a section of a tan colored page. "You're using your Magicka to carve the writing onto the Soul Gem."

Kressmer and Rhonin look to him in wonder, the Breton extending himself toward them to see the book.

"Your concentrated Magicka is digging too deep into the gem, making the energies from it seep out faster," Silver notifies them as he takes his finger off the pages. "You need a chisel..."

"Not just any chisel," Kressmer adds also placing his pointer finger in the same place. "Most likely one made of the same material, that way you can carve into it, without cutting too deep."

Arius and Kressmer look to Rhonin, witnessing his fascination with their knowledge. Midium and Silver feeling like they are taking over his project, come to a silent decision to return the book. The Dunmer closes the journal and holds it out to him, the same way he had his hand out before. Mathys, for a brief moment, looks at his book but instantly gazes back to Midium and Silver. Without looking away, he guides his own hand to his journal. Once touching it, he smoothly pushes it back towards.

"Go on," he tells them with complete trust in their capabilities.

The two are surprised by this open invitation, each one of them looks to one another. By all the mages amazed expressions, they all come to realize they are all having the same thought. With a synchronized nod from all three of them, they come closer together. A quick creak of their chairs, and now they sit beside one another. Rhonin flips the pages, having Arius and Kressmer generously offer feedback on his research.

All three of them, enjoying the notes and the experiment, lose their grasp on time. The hours that pass as they bounce many ideas off one another feel like minutes. Their now similar belief leads them to pace around the room when chatting as the night goes on, but always returning to a large square table at the center. The few remaining candles on the stand, illuminate the many pages of notes that all three spent time filling with research. In the midst of working on the project, one question is asked.

"Of all things to enhance and enchant, why a ring?" Arius asks finding the idea silly.

Kressmer wondering the same question also looks to the Breton. For a moment, Rhonin thinks to himself about how to give the best answer. With an eyebrow raised and his chin in between his pointer finger and thumb, he gives his response.

"When people look at a weapon, they associate it with war and conflict," he tells them. "When people see armor, they think of impending danger and a possible battle to come."

Mathys starts to paces around the room, still thinking to himself and trying to put his best words together. His friends watch him, knowing full well he has much more to say.

"I want to accomplish the impossible, I want to make an object of such great power that even the Emporer of Tamriel would be pleased!"

He becomes joyous at the thought of his dream coming true. Stopping in his tracks, and looking towards Kressmer and Arius who both display the same feeling, he gives them his final statement.

"I chose a ring because it is harmless, and everything it symbolizes is peaceful. It can represent unity, a bond, trust, and many other things. When people would see the ring that I desire to make, I want them to feel at peace, I want it to be a beacon of hope."

Kressmer crosses his arms, feeling proud of Rhonin's noble and generous goal.

"Wise words," he compliments the young mage.

"Umm, speaking of," Arius interjects as he takes Rhonin's journal in hand. As he approaches Mathys, he goes on to read an entry on its pages. "It says here you used Silver for the ring, correct?"

Rhonin and Kressmer walk toward him, meeting with him midway. As they all look to the journal, Mathys responds.

"Yeah," he tells him slightly worried.

"Well, while the metal is not a bad choice, there is a reason only monster hunters and Vigilants of Stendarr use it," he informs them as he runs his fingers down the page. "It's because it works well with killing monsters. Other than that, it doesn't fare as well with other metals when it comes to durability."

"The ring did fall apart just from four enchantments," Rhonin points out from his memory. "If we intend on adding more effects to the ring, it must be much denser."

"We?" Both Arius and Kressmer ask smiling.

Rhonin, shy by his immediate assumption awkwardly laughs. He takes a step back from them as their eyes lock onto him.

"Sorry," he apologizes while looking away. "I uh-"

"No need for apologies," Kressmer assures him waving his hand back and forth. "I kind of figured, we were already part of this project..."

"Right?" Arius agrees with a rhetorical question. "Spending all these hours working on this research; I thought we could be trusted, but if you don't want us involved-"

Rhonin takes one massive step towards them. With a clap of his hand and a bow to them, he respectively begs to them.

"Please oh wise ones, help this lost soul make his dreams come true," he requests aid, humorously.

Arius and Kressmer laugh at the performance, making the pleading Breton crack up as well. The long night has left them slightly hysteric at the moment. Mathy's grasps his chest, feeling heart pain from the chuckling. Even Midium forces himself to look away while showing his emotionally funny side. A tear escapes the Imperial's eye, wiping it away Arius while Midium looks back to them. After a brief moment of humor, they each take deep breaths to calm themselves.

"As I was saying," he lets the last of his laughter leave him before continuing. "The hardest metal you can get is not one I recommend trying to get."

"Daedric," Kressmer answers, nodding already knowing the dangers of obtaining it.

"Yes," Silver confirms with a snap of his fingers. "To get material like that requires bargains with dark forces. However, considering we're mages, and because of a terrible event involving our kind of folk, it's best avoided."

Arius slams the book shut with his hand, making Rhonin flinch and Kressmer to stare at him disappointingly.

"However," the Imperial continues. "If crafted correctly, there is one other metal that can rival it."

Midium and Mathys look at each other, secretly questioning what he is referring to. Without letting anticipation build up, Rhonin holds out his hands before asking.

"What is it?"

"Ebony," Arius answers, leaning close to them.


	4. The Sacred and the Forbidden

Chapter 4: The Sacred and the Forbidden

Being so in-depth and focused with Rhonin's project, the three mages lose track of the passing days. During the day, they tend to the Mages Guild's reforming. Taking it upon themselves to clean the once thriving study halls, living quarters, and working alongside the few other mages there. While the guild is slowly rising to the expectations of the Imperial Empire, the progress of the ring stays at an even pace.

When night falls, Rhonin and his allies return to Arius's mage tower. The bookshelves and counter spaces continue to be filled by the research notes forged by all three scholars. Fortunately, their determination does not strain them nor prevent them from enjoying a flask of ale and a good laugh. In quick time, stacks of paper and clutters of failed research litter the floors and corners of the lab. Their workstation becoming a mess, but not hindering them from their task. Slowly and surely, with each unsuccessful test, they come one step closer to accomplishing their goal.

For the time being, out of risk of causing concern, and preventing prying and envious eyes from stealing their knowledge, the group works incognito. With none the wiser, no one in the guild or outside know of their intentions. Even for those who may desire to know, the busy and hectic planning and preparations for the guild, make it near impossible for any to look into it. Only the initiates have any spare time, to which despite the amount, the three mages are currently at a halt.

Due to having such little resources, the group of mages cannot branch out their research or knowledge of their experimentation. At this time, each one of them has taken up projects to further their studies. Kressmer, stands in a corner shop bookstore, looking through what little novels and tomes they have. In a contempt state of mind, he accepts he won't find anything. He smirks at each book, finding amusement with each one he skims through. Even with the pages flying by his sight, he enjoys what contents he can spot.

With each book he completely looks through, he neatly organizes it back in its designated spot. His inner nature to be tidy and orderly pushes him to correct the store's way of placing the books. That is until something, not too out of the ordinary, appears at the corner of his eye. Turning over, he spots a young, blonde boy, not even in his teens also looking for something to read. By the titles he is glancing at, Kressmer can tell he is in search of a story about adventure. The Dunmer reaches just above the boy, pulling out a black, leather book.

"Perhaps, this may be more to your liking," Kressmer theorizes as he holds it out to him.

The child, at first, is hesitant over the sudden offer from a stranger. He looks back at the Dark Elf and the novel, fighting his eagerness to see the contents. Kressmer, only grins, waiting for the young lad to take it. Easing his hand towards it, the young man latches his finger onto the novel and pulls it from Kressmer. The Dark Elf, with his back straight and his hands behind him, takes his leave. As the bells from the shop door ring, the boy directs his eyes to the black book in his clutches. The title of the volume is "The Book of the Dragonborn."

Meanwhile, Rhonin looks over the piles of notes the three have taken back in the tower. The math of all the research does not fit with him. His right eyebrow raises in confusion, looming over it as he sits and rests his head on his knuckles. Words of mutter fly off his lips, but cannot be heard by any who could be around him. His eyes jolt and glance back and forth from each sheet of paper.

His daze is broken when the sound of someone walking up the stairs is heard. After shaking his head to snap himself back to reality, he stretches his arms back before greeting whoever is coming. Kressmer emerges from downstairs, walking towards the Breton in his proper stance.

"Any luck?" Rhonin questions in a somnolent state of mind.

Kressmer turns his head side to side and remains silent when doing so. Rhonin lets out a sigh before resting his face on the table. The Dunmer takes a seat beside him, his body leaning sluggishly backward. He too lets out a breath of grogginess. The two sit in silence and soak in the disappointment of their vain efforts. The long day's work has tired them out, both of them barely able to keep their eyes open.

It is the sound of rushing heels against metal steps that wakes them. Rhonin flinches at the sharp sound, while Kressmer inhales deeply when awoken. The two face towards the staircase, as they suspect, it is a lively Arius. Unlike their day, Silver with a bright smile comes bearing great news.

"Guys?" He calls for their attention. "I got it..."

Knowing of what he's implying, the other two mages spring from their chairs. The loud creaks and banging of their stools falling over echoes and rings throughout the glass dome.

"How does it look?" Rhonin questions in high hopes that it's in good condition.

Arius walks to the table in haste, the others just stare at him as he gets closer. Once their, he brushes a bundle of paperwork to the side, without knocking it off the counter. They all lean in closer, their heads looming over the clean area. From his pocket, Silver pulls out a folded piece of cloth. At first, Rhonin and Kressmer can't help but be drawn in by what's inside. Laying it flat, Arius slowly unfolds it. With all of their eyes locked onto the fabric, the Imperial reveals its hidden contents.

A ring, as black as an endless abyss rests before them. Not even a shine from the daylight can reflect off the smooth, clean metal. All three of them are drawn in by the well-crafted jewelry. While this item has yet to receive any magical properties, it's the idea of it's potential that grasps the mage's attention.

"Amazing," Kressmer admires with a nod.

"No matter how many times I see it, I can't help but be locked in a trance with it," Rhonin compliments.

"Yeah, I had to pay the blacksmith extra," Arius informs them regretfully. "Crafting Ebony metal into a circle isn't easy, and I think we've both lost track at how many rings we've used up."

"Let us hope this is the last time," Kressmer comments, both he and Rhonin stand straight up.

"How did things go for you guys?" Arius asks standing with them, they all hover over the ring unable to take their eyes off it.

Kressmer and Rhonin sigh together, letting the silence that follows be their answer. Arius, can't help but be let down by their expressions, groaning with them.

"We're at a dead end," Rhonin regretfully admits. "I don't know what we could be doing wrong."

Each one of them ponders over possible ideas, the room falls mute once more. Still, their eyes do not look away from the ring. While doing his best to hide it by covering his face, Rhonin begins to grow slightly agitated by the inconvenience. Silver does not take notice due to being lost in his own thoughts, but Kressmer can suspect it. At the corner of his eye, he can see the impatient mage's vision shake unrestingly.

"Either the enchantment fades, leaving us unable to reuse the ring again, or the magic within battles one another making us unable to use the item," Rhonin adds on.

"Not to mention we can't seem to add the number of effects we want onto them," Arius spats in regretful concern. "We need more than just books, we need perspective."

The other mages lock their eyes on him, Rhonin no longer having the difficulties of the experiment distract him. Arius stands with eyes of confusion from his allies staring at him. Their plans have been kept a secret this whole time, getting another point of view from someone could jeopardize their goal. As well as risk the entire experiment.

"I'm not saying we get another mages opinion," he assures them, waving his hands when putting their disarray to rest. "I mean there must be someone else who has tried this as well, perhaps there's a journal or notes somewhere that we can look up."

Rhonin once more directs his sights to the ring as he ponders the idea. While his mind is at work, Kressmer shakes his head. Without so much as a thought, the Dunmer shoots down the theory.

"I doubt it," he tells the Imperial with his arms crossed. "Such research and meddling wouldn't be sitting on some random shelf, that information would be locked up in some hard to reach vault."

During Kressmers observation, a spark in Mathys's mind illuminates an epiphany. His eyes open wide, almost glowing by the reflection of the day. This enlightenment is seen by Arius, subtly he taps Kressmers shoulder. With the two now facing the Breton, Rhonin reveals his insight.

"Such as the old Arcanium of the Mages Guild?" Rhonin suggestingly asks looking to both of them.

During the age that the original Mages Guild thrived, it was well known for its abundance of knowledge. Much of it was too forbidden and dangerous to let the eyes of the public see. Only mages of the guild were allowed entry, even some had to have supervision when inside. After the events of the Oblivion Crisis, the vault was sealed off by the guild to prevent any who would misuse its secrets. To this very day, none have entered the chamber. The Empire seeing it as a wise action to lock it up and safeguard it; currently, until the new Mages Guild is renewed with the emperor's permission, even they are not allowed to enter.

The three mages' know the fate of the library, but regardless, now the idea of finding their way there lingers.

"The Mages Guild vault?" Arius asks himself with an ounce of doubt in his head and voice. "Is it even possible?"

His question spreads his disbelief to them. A squint of their eyes displays their uncertainty.

"By what I've learned, the chamber has been locked away for many ages," Kressmer adds his input. "Even if we could sneak our way to the entrance, we would need four keys to unlock the doorway."

The Dunmer firmly pats Rhonin's back as an apology for shooting down his idea. Despite his action, the stressful Mathys can't help but scuff at his truthful words. While they remain at each other's side to stand in the quietness, Arius has yet to give up. While he stares down at the ring, he thinks through every way they could get inside. In the moment of realization, Silver snaps his fingers having the sound ring in everyone's ears. Once the other two face him in puzzlement for his out of place action, he expresses his perspective.

"I believe there might be a way," he tells them in absolution, nodding his head and looking at them.

At the rising of night, the group makes their way into the heart of the Imperial City. Despite the mass population, the streets are silent and barren. Even the number of guards this dusk are but a handful, allowing the mages to stay out of sight. Not even the illuminating night sky with the bright moons can help make them visible. Lurking at the shadowy corners of the proud city, the mages' patiently await for Arius's plan to come to fruition.

Silver paces back and forth and repeatedly glance at every direction for something to arrive. Rhonin is nervous, fearing the chance that they could be in grave trouble. Not just for lingering suspiciously, but for an attempt to break into the sealed library. Kressmer, with his usual composure but with his arms crossed, leans on a wall next to Mathys. There is a slight distraught in the Dark Elf's eyes, as he glares downward.

"I know I've already stated this, but this is not a good idea," he expressly whispers with minor disdain. "It's one thing to break into Imperial Property, but to steal..."

"We're not intending on stealing Kressmer," Rhonin rushes to interject in a hushed tone. "We have every intention of returning whatever we get..." A pinch of skepticism remains over the thought of their efforts being in vain. "If there is anything to find..."

Arius, after spending so much time worrying over the anticipation finally stops walking back and forth. As he approaches his friends, he gives in his input.

"Even if we don't find anything, this will still be an exciting adventure to partake in," Arius speaks with pure optimism. "I'll buy us a few drinks, we'll have a stupid laugh over it."

With his eyes away from the direction he was facing, a hooded figure sprints over to them. The alarming sight makes Rhonin quietly panic. He frantically jams his finger into Kressmer's shoulder as he points to the mysterious person. The Dunmer, now also seeing the man, smacks the Bretons hand away to stop his pestering. Arius realizing what is going on smirks as he turns his head in the same direction. Once reaching the group, the cowling man stops just behind Silver.

"Well, it's about time you showed up," Arius comments poking fun at the timing arrival.

"Apologies, it's not like I had my hands full with the Imperials and Thalmor," throwing his hood over his shoulder, the stranger reveals himself to be Enthir, the Wood Elf from the other day.

"Enthir?" Rhonin and Kressmer question the reveal. The two having the feeling of betrayal for Silver getting help behind their backs, they lock their focus onto him.

"What?" Arius questions the stern looks still in a positive mood. "I figured he'd be the guy to go to for help, besides he doesn't want to know what we are doing."

"Breaking into a vault of forbidden tomes and books, yeah that's publicity that I won't be dipping my toes in," Enthir states, having a strong chill run up his spine at the thought. "Unfortunately, I couldn't get the keys..."

Rhonin's group is left speechless at the negative news, even Arius is bewildered as he turns to Enthir. While Rhonin stares expressing the same feeling Silver does, Kressmer lightly shakes his head ashamed.

"What?" Arius asks impatiently from the time they've waited.

"The keys are in the heart of the Imperial city," Enthir calmly defends his failing. "I'm many things, but I'm not a man who can do the impossible." Before the group can get cheerless over the letdown, the Wood Elf holds his hand out when mentioning another detail. "However..."

The three mages spark a sudden interest in hopes he has something good to offer. They march closer to him, looming around him as he speaks.

"I got you guys something better," he claims civilly but with pride backing his words.

"Like what?" Kressmer kindly requests, circling his hands to hint for a fast answer.

Continuing to be boastful, Enthir smirks with his knuckles pressed to his sides.

"Follow me," he requests as he sneaks off into the distance. With no other options, and with a synched sigh of displeasing from the three they creep behind him.

Not too far from where they initially met, the group finds themselves in a small courtyard. This area is closed off by a concrete wall, ensuring that whatever actions they take they will not be noticed. As Enthir presses forward to the center of the yard, the mages take in the age of this patio. The cracks along the walls, the flourishing and unkempt plants growing everywhere, and even the rust metal and chipped stone decorations display the age and vacancy of the field.

The Wood Elf reaches the middle of the courtyard, there, they can all see a stone slab in the shape of a coffin. As they stand to the side with arms crossed, Enthir examines the rock hard decoration. His hands run along its edges, the flat ends, and creases at the bottom.

"Where is it?" He asks himself as he makes haste with his search. Hidden in plain sight by white paint, a small imprint is carved into the coffin. As he rubs his hand over the indent, he feels the entire shape. "There..." He jams his finger at the center of it.

Pressing on the sigil activates a mechanism underneath the slab. As the sound of gears turning and chains rattling haunt their ears, the concrete behind the decoration morphs into itself to pull it back. The floor beneath them rumbles as a hidden passageway reveals itself.

The four of them step forward to look down the entrance that the mechanism has opened. Arius and Rhonin are in awe, unable to look away at the intriguing pathway. They are the ones that lean in, almost falling straight into it. Kressmer and Enthir just stare with a mild interest in the hidden corridor. The two pleasingly nod at the discovery.

"This is as far as I can take you," Enthir notifies them as he looks to the Dunmer. "I'll seal the entrance behind you so no one can follow."

Kressmer silently thanks him with a gentleman's bow, Enthir just tilts his head downward in return. Raising himself up, Midium turns to his friends.

"Rhonin, let's go," he suggests with haste.

He is the first to jump down the hole; Mathys not wanting to hold him up drops in without a second thought. Silver steps forward next to the Wood Elf. Reaching to the side of his belt, Arius clips off a large sack of coins. When dropping it, Enthir underestimating its weight is nearly brought down by it.

"Every coin is accounted for, plus a tip for your hard work," Arius smiles at him hoping to please him.

The Bosmer takes no time in opening the satchel to see for himself. Once untying the string that kept it closed, he begins rummaging his fingers through it. It takes no more than a few seconds for him to know the amount of gold that's inside.

"It's most appreciated," he says with gratitude followed by a single nod.

Arius pats Enthir on the back, but before the favor can be returned he leaps into the hole. Above their heads, the entryway begins to seal itself back into place. The rumbling forces dust and dirt to drop down around them. They cover their mouths as the night light sky slowly blots out for them, the last thing they see is the Bosmer turn his back to them. For a brief moment, darkness and skin bitting cold are all that surrounds them. Snapping his fingers, Kressmer engulfs his hand in a gentle flame.

The group stares down the endless, black hallway with Rhonin and Arius behind Midium. As they all face forward, Mathys begins an incantation with his hands. A dim white light emits from them as he starts activating his spell. With a wave of his palms, one Magelight orb spawns on each of their shoulders. A sphere of sparkling light, no bigger than a hand now hums near their ears.

"Good thinking Rhonin," Arius compliments with a hearty shake of his fist.

"Well..." Rhonin shyly places both of his hands behind his neck and leans backward. "It's a beginners spell, I think any mage can do that."

"Regardless," Kressmer adds, shaking his hand to put out the flames.

"It will make traversing the hallway a little easier."

Once more, the guild mages' direct their eyes forward to the blackness. For a moment they stand together, internally preparing themselves for what may lie ahead. Rhonin, who was most nervous about taking this endeavor, takes in a deep breath. Breathing outward from his nostrils, his heart beats courageously at the challenge before them. With all of them as fearless as they can get, they march onward. The path behind them fades, as the trail beyond lightens for them.

Being isolated from the outside, it's difficult to say how long they've been walking. Arius, who was full of the most excitement has grown bored. His posture before was straight up, proper, but now is slouched and his eyelids are close to shutting on him. Rhonin, at first was confident that everything would be fine, but his cautious steps and constant peeks at every detail say otherwise. Kressmer remains unfazed by what could reside in the halls, he presses forward, keeping at a pace that the others can match.

By the thick layer of dust, dirt, and many webs, the group can know for a certainty that no one has made it this far into the chamber in many ages. The absence of nearly all noise troubles them, even their soft footsteps can barely be heard. The group has grown used to the sound of Rhonin's spell, even at times forgetting that the Magelights are there. It is this quietness that starts making Rhonin even more suspicious, but it's his skepticism that saves them.

A flicker at the corner of his eye grabs his attention. Jerking his head to the direction of the sparkle, an old sigil can be seen on the floor not too far from them. Urgently, he places his arm in front of Kressmer to freeze his friends in their tracks.

"Wait!" He warns them, shouting and filling the catacombs with his yell.

With his fist clenching close to him, the rapid element of electricity consumes his hand. Jabbing his fist forward, he sends a bolt of lightning at the symbol. By the blink of an eye attack, the magic of the rune activates. Lightning shoots off in the short area the Magicka mine is in. They all avert their eyes and faces to block in the case a possible strike hits them. Thunder rings in their ears and bounces off the walls of the pathway. With the rune destroyed, they lower their guards to look at the devastation. Realizing the weight of the dire situation, concern fills their hearts knowing that their lives are in danger.

"Runes?" Arius asks, the pitch of his voice heightening while unable to contain his worries.

"When I read that the guild sealed this place off, I did not think they would go this far," Rhonin recollects now accepting the impending threat.

Mathys, with little oxygen in his lungs, starts taking faster breaths to calm himself. It does not take long for Kressmer to get in between the younger wizards, placing a soothing hand on both of them to ease the stress.

"Maybe we should turn back," Arius suggest with a fake chuckle.

"It's just a rune spell," Kressmer addresses confidently. "We're three guild mages, I think we can manage."

"He's right," Rhonin agrees springing himself back up. "We can do this."

The group only spends a moment of time to brace themselves for the dangers of the tunnel. Once again, a soothing light pours from Rhonin's hands when casting another set of Magelight spells. With their path lighten by the magic, they steadily sneak down the walkway. Like Rhonin, each one of them now behaves as he had before. Their eyes glance at each corner of the space to spot any more runes. Without using too much of their time to be safe, they stumble upon a most depressing sight.

In their gaze, is a long deceased adventurer. His skeletal remains hang on a set of metal spikes that had come through the wall. Arius and Rhonin gasp at the upsetting display, the implication of someone else taking on the challenge and failing fills them with dread. As they stand back, Kressmer is the first to step up and examine the body. His steps are slow, he even looks downward to avoid the foot press that initially triggered the device. Even beyond death, the skeletons foot still clings to the pedal.

Arius trying to get a different view begins stepping closer to the wall. Just from a few feet away, he can see Kressmer studying the body. The Dunmers intentions are if this person managed to grab something from the library. However, he would not find out, the mages' would have a new threat to deal with.

Silver presses his foot on top of an out of place, dry, old stone block. As it falls inward into the ground making Arius lose his balance, a button beneath it is accidentally pressed. Before he can stabilize his balance, the grinding of gears can be heard once more, this time right next to him. Frozen in fear, Silver stares blankly at the wall. Kressmer rushes back to see what has happened, he too pauses in hesitance.

"Look out!" Rhonin shouts out as he reaches for Arius.

With ease, he latches his fingers onto Silver and yanks them forward. The two ram into Midium, all three of them slam onto the hard floor to avert catastrophe. In the nick of time, another set of dwarven spikes pierce the stone walls right where Arius had been if not moved. Stone rubble flies in all directions, even near where the group is. Brick and stone now litter the spot they were in, whatever the skeleton has is no longer important. With the trap no longer active, the spears retract into the wall.

Both Rhonin and Arius have slammed on top of Kressmer, smothering him with their body weight. His groans hum in the back of their ears, but not loud enough to let them know it's him. As the two push themselves off Midium, his grumbling ceases. As he clears his throat from the dusty debris, he turns over to start rising up. Unbeknownst to him, his hand has pressed on another lethal trap.

Another rune is activated by the careless reach of the Dunmer. The other two take notice of this before Kressmer can. Now in a panic and rush to save him, they both grab onto his shoulders and pull him backward. In the midst of a cough, he is yanked towards them. With his eyes wide from the sudden action, he is able to witness what could have been his demise.

The reddish marking explodes before their eyes. Flames and ember fly in all directions, just barely out of range for the mages to burn. A gust of dirt and heat travel through and over them. They avert their eyes and wait for the charm to end. With their backs to the floor, the force of the explosion keeps them pinned. After the blaze, came the calm and cinder flakes in the air. With the roaring spell finally over, the mages' can lift themselves up. Simultaneously, they sit up and gaze at the burnt patch on the floor. A single spark of the fire remains, dwindling in place and close to dying out.

"Well, that could have been inconvenient," Kressmer states, his tone as gentle as ever.

As he brushes the dirt from his outfit, Arius and Rhonin look to one another in awe over his calm demeanor. They smile, tidying up the same way the two chuckle at the Dunmers reaction as they clean themselves off. The group has a moment to take a breather and relax, freshening themselves before pressing on. Yet, this peace is shorter in time than a raindrop hitting the floor.

Behind him, Rhonin can hear a scraping sound from where the skeleton was. Turning his head back, a sense of worry comes to him. The body now loose from the blast, now dangles by a bony hand. Hanging forward, the corpse will fall any second. Out of precaution, he looks downward, just beneath the body, another trap just like the one Arius triggered lies. He tries to stands to stop the Skeleton, urgently directing his body towards it. Once on his feet, the corpse falls. Mathys swings his arm out to catch it, the skeleton slips beyond his grasp.

His friends watch as the remains land directly on the switch. While the brick slides into the earth, they all watch helplessly. Arius and Kressmer rise, with the group banding close together, they wait to see what comes. After a few seconds of quietness, nothing happens. All is fine, they're still standing, and no lethal mechanism has tried to kill them. At the moment, they're in relief over the idea of a faulty trap. However, the mages' ease is instantly blown away, as the sound of steel and stone colliding is heard. Back in the direction, they came from, this ear piercing screech comes closer to them. Each second, it moves towards them ruthlessly.

"What is that?" Arius questions, taking a fearful step back.

"Let's not find out," Kressmer replies, also backing up. "We need to move, now!"

"But, what about the other runes and traps?" Rhonin concerningly asks, swerving back to him.

"Run in a straight line as fast as you can! We have no other choice!"

Arius and Rhonin look back to the noise, its impending arrival is imminent. Without thinking through how unsafe it is to blindly run, and with no other option, they all make a break for the end of the tunnel. In a single file line, they sprint as fast as they can down the cave. They ignore every hazard and obstacle that they come by. Their speed is barely enough to dodge each trap. While they don't land on every button, they don't miss every one either. With every spear, spike, and blade they bypass from the traps, their speed is briefly slowed allowing whatever is behind them to gain on them.

Whatever runes they step over, either explode, burst, or freeze just out of their vicinity. With the flames, electricity, or ice almost hitting Arius due to him being at the back of them. Despite the many close calls and near misses, their luck may run out if they can't reach the end in time. No matter how far they run, it feels that the tunnel has no end. Just an endless pathway of death and pain, with impending doom behind them.

"I see something ahead lads!" Kressmer calls out being the eyes of the group.

At last a dim light from the end of the path is revealed to them. From this point, Rhonin and his friends seem to have made it through all the traps and runes. As grand as the sight is as well as the absence of deadly snares, the clattering steel sound is right behind them. Sharp-ended, gated doors piercing the ground is what approaches them, closing off the exit behind them. Not only is the risk of being impaled a factor, but the chance that they will be caged forever in darkness is also likely. Now in the final stretch of the chase, the group must keep going with everything they got.

The mages' push themselves harder to reach the pass. While Kressmer manages to improve his pace without too much trouble, Arius and Rhonin began to tire themselves rapidly. Silver slowly passes Mathys with the latter losing stamina quickly. The Imperial does his best to aid him, tugging and pulling at his shoulder and shirt to help keep him up. Yet, none of his actions help in the long run against death. As they come to the end of the passageway, Kressmer lingers just beyond it.

"Come on, hurry!" He cries out to them, his hand reaching forward ready to pull them inside.

Arius as well holds his hand to Midium, the two using every ounce of strength to reach safety. As Silver and Kressmer grab onto one another, the Dunmer with all his prowess yanks them towards him. The urgent burst of physical power forces the three to fall once more. With only an inch to spare, a metal gate, the source of the sound nearly takes Rhonin's foot. The mages gaze with eyes shaking in disturbing awe, one single second could have meant entrapment or death for the two. Sharp cell bars have enclosed the entire tunnel, making them unable to leave the same way they came.

At last, the adventuring trio has made it beyond the perilous tunnel. Rhonin and the others, while very tired from the hectic chase manage to escape the lethal switches and explosive wards. Just barely visible, the illuminating and deadly magic from the runes brighten small sections of the passage. While Rhonin in unable to see due to lying flat from his severe fatigue, Arius and Kressmer only watch with stress pouring from them in the form of broken, dry breaths and sweat.

"I don't know if we should consider that luck, or the Divines really liking us," Arius humorously comments with little air in his lungs.

"I highly doubt it's the second theory lad," Kressmer answers lowering his head in a sigh of relief.

Rhonin, off to the side raises a single finger to the endlessly high ceiling. For a moment, the only sounds he can make are those of the air he attempts to catch. The other two mages take notice of this, now leaning over towards him instead of the iron gate.

"Maybe... It's Divine... Luck..." He answers still recuperating, with little stamina to spare he drops his arm back onto the floor.

Kressmer and Arius look to each other, for a moment they wonder about Mathys's comment. Upon looking back to him, Silver is the first to understand Rhonin's attempt at humor. He smothers the top half of his face into his hand as he chuckles to himself. Kressmer, also quietly laughs and turns his cheek at the ridiculous comment. Together, they all find a brighter side to the dangers they have endured.

While Silver tends to Rhonin's stamina depleted state with his own green potion, Kressmer rises to study the room they are in. Mathys drinks from the handheld vile when doing the same. The corridor matches the same place they were in when doing the Mages Guild trials. A room of marble and stone, only no runes or enchanted markings along the walls or floor. As well as no stand or throne to look down on them. As Midium's eyes scan the area, he catches sight of one key difference.

At the center of the room, there is a massive brown grimoire idly sitting on a white stand. As Kressmer focuses on the book from afar, the other mages now fully recuperating, also look towards the same direction. The moment of peace ends as swiftly as it came, now the mages are at unease over the ominous sight.

"What is that?" Arius questions, growing impatient over the merciless security measures.

"Trouble..." Is all that Rhonin can guess.

Trying to get a broader observation but without triggering anything, Mathys walks sideways of the group. His steps slow, and only the tips of his shoes touch the ground as he steadily moves to the side. No longer dealing with the immense exhaustion, he is able to move freely when studying the tome. With none of them having any clue, the entire chamber is rigged to stop intruders. Regardless of their actions now, an impending threat will be unleashed on them. It is Rhonin's careful step that initiates this challenge. With one light step, a spell of great magnitude is activated. A series of blue and violet markings brighten the room, blinding the mages to the point they shield themselves from its intensity.

"What's happening?" Arius questions aloud in frightening anticipation for the worse.

"Brace yourselves, something is coming!" Kressmer shouts to the group having the same outlook.

The trio is left helpless as the incantation proceeds, not knowing of what is to come. The mystical energies force the entire room to rumble and shake as it summons the dust and earth beneath their feet, forming into a solid, brown shape in front of them. The concrete bricks are pulled out of place making the task of merely standing difficult for the group. As the spell and gravel spiral and envelop the tome, the blinding light of it diminishes.

At last, the wild spell has come to an end. The mages can lower their guards to see what transpired in front of them. Low and behold, a most threatening foe now stands in the way of their quest. Their faces hang, puzzling at the menacing trial that blocks their path.

"Is that..?" Arius being so intimidated that he cannot form a full question.

Towering over them, almost the height of a house stands a mass of stone, dirt, and rock. While it is in a humanoid shape, the unusual design of its muscle mass, it's blade-like claws, and size set it apart. A rugged and thick growl emits from the solid monster upon first looking at them. So full of rage, and with its arms spread wide, the clay abomination lets out a roar so fierce a blast of wind follows behind. The mages gaze back into its empty eye sockets, with a sense of uncertainty that they cannot prevail against this animation. While they are unfazed by the fierce gale, it is only Kressmer who isn't afraid. While he is just troubled by the challenge, the younger mages become internally frightful of the monster.

"That's a golem," Rhonin calls out, swallowing anxiously to clear his dry throat.


	5. The Unpleasant Stone Giant

Chapter 5: The Unpleasant Stone Giant

After taking a risky bargain from Enthir, Rhonin's group is lead to a long-abandoned tunnel. Presumably, leading to the heart of the Mages Guild Arcanium. While the treacherous pathway proved to be a lethal challenge for the trio, they reluctantly and with "Divine Luck" prevailed to make their way through. Suffering only fatigue from the sprint across perilous runes and traps, the mages' find themselves within a massive, white chamber. This room would prove to be just as much of if not more of a danger than the entrance.

Not long after entering the room, another incantation was activated. This time there were no explosions of ice, fire, or lightning, but instead a summoning. An animation of dirt, rubble, rock, and marble came before them. Created from a magic tome long left there, to guard the entrance to the old library. This ten-foot tall behemoth of earth, by their knowledge, was known as a golem.

In the ages long passed, the wizards of old did not always rely on the tradition atronachs we see today. Instead they animated elemental soldiers called golems, these massive entities were used to protect the domains of mages from all threats. They came in different shapes, sizes, and were constructed using either ice, stone, or metal. Even to the current age, curious adventures may come across these hardened titans in dungeons, still serving their long deceased masters to their last moments.

As the creature towers over them, howling in fury for their intrusion, the trio stand back as they observe it.

"A golem?" Arius questions, becoming agitated by the sudden threat. "Why am I not surprised!"

"This is unlike any golem I've ever read about," Rhonin comments being stricken with fear and unable to look away from the animation.

"Regardless of its rarity, we need to find a way to kill it!" Kressmer interjects their interest.

Delving deep into his mind, Rhonin brainstorms his insight on the elemental. Vast and sporadic thoughts and concepts rush in his mind, taking him away from the behemoth while planning a solution with crucial haste. As panic clouds his attention from the danger before them, the golem begins to make its move. With a broken growl seeping from its rocky jaw, it marches blindly towards them. Despite the not so dense material that forms the beast, its body endures the massive weight. Every grain of dirt and gravel that bleeds from it merges back into its sand piled feet.

Discluding Rhonin, the rest of his party take precautions as their foe approaches, stepping backward to keep a distance between them and the monster. Silver becomes timid by the marching giant, his whole body tensing at the impending danger. Kressmer, unlike his fellow allies, squints his eyes in disdain by the challenge.

"Rhonin?" Arius calls out to the Breton to break him out of his trance.

"There's earth, steel, and..." Mathys mutters the few materials that can be used to make a golem, ignoring Silver's plea of trepidation. During another ear rumbling roar, the name of the final material sparks in his head. "Ice..." Brazenly, with a stomp of his heel in front of him, the mage takes his stand against their foe. "We need to use ice magic!"

"Took you long enough!" Arius keenly comments.

Mirroring one another, the mages' draw their own hands together. Concentrating their Magicka into their palms, the three combine their efforts into a single effective attack. Chilling winds and flakes of frost form in their hands, the trembling cold having no effect on the users. The air around them becomes frigid, a cyclone of cold emits from their unison of powerful magic. The entire chamber develops a layer of frost on its walls and floors.

Thrusting their palms forward, each of the mages absorbs the freezing energies around them. Focusing their powers into a single spell, each of the wizards' unleashes a ferocious, spiraling beam of ice. With their target being so massive, they successfully hit the golem. The intensity of their conjoined efforts not only harms the elemental but even overpowers it. Unable to push its way through the spell, the monster starts to slide back in the direction it came.

The golem's growl of pain and the sound of shattering ice upon its solid body echoes across the chamber. Being driven back to the center, its body becomes frozen in place. Frozen shards protrude and pierce the behemoth's body. The brown dirt that forms a majority of its body has become black from the condensation of their chilling touch.

After ending their incantation, Rhonin's group stares proudly triumphant over the giant. A thin layer of ice coats the front half of the construct, keeping it in place and forcing it to not move. The room remains cold from their spell, chilling their breaths and leaving the floor coated in fallen snowflakes.

"Serves you right, stone head!" Arius spats pridefully to insult the creature.

"Good thinking Rhonin," Kressmer compliments with a grin towards Mathys.

In the midst of boasting victory, they avert their attention from the golem. This grave mistake will force the disciples of magic to learn a terrible truth. Not long after taking their eyes away from the creature, the ice that courses through it begins to crack. The discerning sound of the golem breaking free does not go unnoticed. The mages turn their heads back to the titan. The stunning event taking place clouds the younger mages minds with dread. Midium acknowledges the scale of danger that this giant presents, and gives an irritated look.

Their enemy proves to have far more fight left in it. As it grumbles, with a swing of its arms, the golem frees itself from its bonds. Razor pieces of ice shoot out across the room, the mages block themselves to ease any damage from the blast. Blocking their vision of the monster, a thick vapor of cold winds blows by them as well. Having only minor scratches from the backlash, they direct their concentration back at the enemy.

At first sighting, the group sees the golem charging directly at Rhonin. With its fist clenching, razor rocks emerge from where its knuckles would be if it possessed them. Its very weighted body makes the floor beneath them rumble, making the titan's charge more terrifying. Mathys, despite becoming intimidated by the impending assault, is able to react in time. Having emerald energy swarm his hands, the Breton places them at his sides to invoke a spell to block the attack. Swinging his palms upward, a stone wall coursing with the same magic arises from the earth in front of him.

With an animated barrier blocking the golem's path, the monster swings its stone fist directly at it. From the collision, the fortifying blockade breaks in three. While Rhonin is able to suppress the damage of the strike, he is not successful in stopping it entirely. The chunk of the wall that the giant hurls with its punch slams into Rhonin's chest. Mathys is sent flying through the air, the solid hit rendering him breathless and temporarily incapacitated. Once making contact with the marble wall, he lays, gasping for air.

"Rhonin!" Kressmer concerningly calls out.

Arius stands stressfully silent over his friends well being. Due to Mathys's severe injuries, the spell he was using vanishes. With the incantation and the mage casting it temporarily unable to fight, the golem sets its sights on the next target. Being that Kressmer was the first to make himself stand out, the beast directs its face towards the Dunmer. Even with the elemental deadset on attacking him next, Midium devices a strategy to hold off the creature.

"Arius!" He crucially turns to Silver. "Distract the golem, while I tend to Rhonin!"

"With pleasure," the Imperial responds, looking forward to avenging his injured friend.

With his hands open, he too begins invoking his own spell. Violet and blue energies dance in between his fingertips. The combined magic transforms into wild, spinning flames in his hands. Once in Arius's desired form, the Magicka crystalizes and hardens. Bound swords in an abstract shape appear, with Silver grasping the handles of these twin blades, he smirks in delight.

"Hey!" He pridefully speaks out to the monster, to allow Kressmer to rush towards Rhonin.

Gullable to any noise, the golem registers the words of the battle mage. Stomping its way as it turns, the creature locks its sights onto Arius. The first thing its eyeless vision can notice is Silver charging towards it. In retaliation, it too rushes at him, both of them unleashing their own battle cries. Once more, the Golem hurls its stone fist at the challenger in the form of an uppercut. Unlike Rhonin, Arius does not block this attack. Instead, with only a few seconds to spare, the battle mage falls to his side. Using the smooth marble floor to his advantage, he slides under the monsters rigid knuckles.

Slipping pass its arm and moving towards its ankles, Arius changes the angle of his blades to extend sideways. As he slides under the golem, his oblivion blades slice through the sand and stone legs of the beast. The golem, releasing an excruciating roar of pain crumbles under its own weight. Its legs are now but a pile of rubble and earth. Only its upper body remains, having to use its arms to hold itself up.

Now that the giant is hindered, Arius presses the assault. He rushes to the front of the elemental, flipping his blades to face forward as he charges. The golem, being able to hear which direction he's coming from instinctively swings his right arm to the side. Even though this will throw off its balance, the creature does so with haste.

Seeing the incoming attack with ease, Arius cunningly lowers his body to avert it. As a countermeasure, he swings one of his blades upward to meet with the golem's arm. As the two hits clash, the short sword proves to be superior to the stone hand. With little effort, Silver is able to severe the creatures hand clean off. Again, the golem roars in aggravation. Unable to keep itself up, the construct falls sideways. The elemental's body of dirt and stone is reduced to a formless pile. All but its arm, torso, and head remain from the chain of attacks.

To finish his barrage, he sprints away from it. The creature is helpless as the Imperial creates a distance between the two. Due to its endless persistence, the monster still attempts to bring itself back up. However, before it can truly make any effort, Arius slides once more to turn himself around and procure a safe gap. The swords in his hands dissipate in the blink of an eye. With one more trick to use, he calls upon the powers of oblivion to grant him another armament. This time, a bow of white and pink shapes itself from his conjuring flames.

With a bow in hand and a blue arrow locked in his fingers, he yanks both the cord and bolt back to unleash his finishing attack. The tip of the sharp ammunition shines like a grain size star. With his eyes narrow and intently death staring the golem, he gives a proud smile before letting loose his shot. The bowstring emitting a soothing hum as it bounces, launching the enchanting arrow at the beast.

Traveling through the air, the group can distinguish an ear-piercing ringing as it flies. The three mages' watch as the arrow beams forward. Even the titan can glance the approaching hit before it strikes. As Arius was predicting, the bolt penetrates the left eye socket of the Golem. A helpless and wrathful howl blasts from the creature's mouth.

"That's what happens when you go up against a battle mage!" Silver boastfully remarks.

Only a few feet away, Kressmer with palms glowing with golden light, works to restore Rhonin to full health. Mathys, now able to properly breathe after the solid hit, grasps his chest in relief while rapidly inhaling and exhaling.

"Are you alright?" Kressmer questions, canceling his restoration spell.

"I'm alive," he states the obvious while still catching his breath.

"I have to say, I'm surprised that you can take such a hit," Arius compliments when rushing to the group.

With the three of them reunited, Silver and Midium assist Mathys in standing up. Taking him by the arms and using their bodies to elevate him high enough to stand, the Breton manages to keep himself up by leaning on the wall.

"I think its fair to say we've all been surprised today," Rhonin responds with a light aired chuckle. "Either by the traps or by how well of a fighter you are..."

"No need to thank, but I'll accept the praise," he jokingly states with a quick laugh.

Their brief moment of peace is put to an end by the angry groans of the construct. The groups' eyes are drawn in by a most unsettling sight. Even with all the damage that was inflicted by Arius, his efforts prove to be in vain. Only being setback by their attempts at harm, the elemental's body has begun to reshape itself. Its once severed arm rejuvenates at an accelerating rate. With its earthen limbs back into pristine condition, the golem starts to push itself back onto its regenerating legs.

"That thing is still alive?" Arius exhaustingly questions.

"I knew it wasn't an ordinary golem," Rhonin repeats his earlier statement, concluding his theory. "It's a channeling spell."

"Channeling?" Arius and Kressmer confusingly ask in synch.

"There is a spell that is keeping it active. If we don't find the source, we won't be able to kill it."

As the snarls of anger continue to plague their ears, the group scatters their eyes across the chamber. Time is short, with only a few moments to spare the mages' gaze around the room to find the source of the spell. As they frantically inspect the area, the waist of the creature is now forming. The golem gradually with its arms lifts itself back up. At this moment, Kressmer catches a glimpse at the source of the creature's power.

"The tome!" Midium bafflingly points out.

The grimoire from before has implanted itself into the elemental's back, in between where its shoulder blades would be. Following Kressmers insight, the other mages' look in the same direction. Rhonin and Arius for a split second are able to discover the root of the golems magic before it stands.

"Good eye Kressmer!" Rhonin praises with a nod at Midium. "If that tome can produce such a powerful atronach, we'll need to hit it with everything we have to stop it."

"I highly doubt that abomination is going to let us get that close again," Arius bluntly comments.

"We'll need a distraction," Kressmer suggests unnaturally calm to the idea.

"Leave it to me!"

Arius proudly steps forward with a plan already in mind. Drawing the violet energies from his body into his hand, he commands the powers of oblivion to cast a familiar spell. By his formation of casting, both Rhonin and Kressmer can decipher his intentions. The two mages' part from him to give him working space, as well as prepare to make their own move. Swinging his hands to the ceiling, Silver enwraps his body in a blinding fire.

Returning to serve their summoner, the blazing atronachs' are called forth. With each servant taking each arm of their master, the firey maidens await his command.

"Ladies," Arius greets them with a charming grin.

Silver looks toward the golem, the atronachs' follow the sight of their summoner. The stone elemental, with its body restored to high quality, take notice of the fellow servants of flame. Despising the presences of other familiars, he lets a distasteful growl slip its earthen jaw. As both sides of this battle glare at one another, Arius gives his orders.

"Light him up," he commands with his arms held to the side.

With no hesitation or even a sign of acknowledgment, the summons take flight towards the golem. The creature retorts with a swinging of stone fists, but its size proves to be an annoying weakness. Due to the fire atronachs' speed, as they fly and dash around him, he is unable to land a critical blow to either one of them. As it impatiently hurls its fists and swings its hands, the giant is bombarded by fireballs with the maidens harassing it by charred laughing and dodging its assaults.

Sadly, despite hitting the grimoire on occasion, the atronachs cannot harm the book due to its immense magical power. Even their direct hits to the golem prove to only anger it than do any significant damage. Every burn that they inflict is replaced with more dirt and rubble. To add insult to injury, even Kressmer joins in on the attack.

"Creature!" He confidently projects, putting himself in danger.

Just as he plans, the titan angrily changes its direction toward the Dunmer. No longer concerning itself with the other elementals, the creature ignores their blasts of fire when focusing on Midium.

"Are you even trying to kill us?" He rhetorically asks with a smirk and his arms behind him.

The Golem prioritizes its attacks at the confident Dark Elf. Rushing at him even with the fire atronachs' trying to harm it, it disregards them entirely to kill the elder wizard. The second it stands above him, the monster slams its rock hard fist down onto him. With an angry roar, it makes direct contact. However, in that same moment of connection, Kressmer's body becomes a cloud of smoke that envelops the Golems palm. Examining its fingers and hand, it becomes apparent that it was an illusion.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that," Kressmer's voice is heard off to the side.

Full of rage at the persistent mockery, the earth elemental turns to the source of the sound. Standing in the same position as before, with the same haughty grin, a fake Midium stands unharmed. The irritation of dealing with so many nuisances makes the construct snap. In outrage a wrathful battle cry blasts from it. In that moment of pent-up rage being released, the blazing maidens move in for another attack. This time, without even looking at the direction they're coming from, the titan simultaneously latches its grip onto each one of them with one hand.

Now in its grasp, the fire atronachs' are helpless and unable to fight back. Struggling as they are, wiggling and shaking, they are at the monsters mercy. Tightening its solid grip, the breaking of charcoal and stone is heard from the giant's hands. Slowly with each passing second, its hold only becomes harder. A broken growl of satisfaction rumbles within the titan's throat. Regardless of how triumphant the creature seems, its current actions have significant consequences.

On the verge of defeat, the fire elementals can resort to one last means of causing harm. As their bodies crush from the golem's strength, the maidens' begin to burn brighter with every passing second. They become limp, lifeless as their intense heat only increases. Becoming painfully bright, it does not take long for the giant to spot this event. At the moment of realizing the illumination, it was too late.

In blazing fury, the fiery servants of Arius combust. Wild flames of two separate explosions consume the golem. In the blink of an eye, the room becomes unbearably radiant from the bursts of fire. By the sacrifice of the atronachs', the Golem is temporarily neutralized. Its limbs have for the most part been blown away, whatever remains of the sandy arms is hardened glass or burnt rock. The whole upper part of its body is searing from the intense flames. Smoke and even embers emit from its massive body. The giant is silent and is no longer in a state to fight. This vulnerability is the golem's downfall.

"Now!" Rhonin signals the others out loud.

Behind the titan, the group of mages' have snuck passed its guard. During the confrontation, they once again are combining their powers into a mighty finishing blow. Only this time, the element of choice is lightning instead of ice. Sparks fly, connect and shoot off their fingertips when charging their attack.

Using their hands to form sphere shapes, the erratic element forms. Turning back, the construct of the earth is only given a single glance before its defeat.

At the same time, the mages' unleash their bolts of lightning. While traveling from the groups' palms, the strikes conjoin into a single devastating blast. Faster than the eye can see, the destructive stream hits its mark. The magical tome, despite the spell protecting it, is no match for their might. Upon impact, the book is reduced to a charred novel with ember pages. This killing blow is the final means of bringing the golem down. With the spell no longer powering it, the creature in a calming groan accepts defeat.

Too fast for it to really react, its body begins breaking down. Its already fracturing arms collapse and snap off from its shoulders. Its legs form into a pile of dirt before they can fall. Once its lower half finishes crumbling, its torso and head don't make it much longer. The last thing the group sees is the head of the serene titan scatter into dust and pebbles. With this great victory, the mages are now one step closer to reaching the Arcanium and retrieving the knowledge they need to create the Ebony Ring.


	6. Name of Legend

Chapter 6: Name of Legend

Many times the group has been misled, throughout the night the mages' were tricked into believing they were safe. The treacherous traps and explosive runes from the pathway of blackness, to even a golem standing in their way of reaching the Mages Guild Arcanium. However, after a long chain of lethal events and dangers, it is done. After vanquishing the stone elemental, the group is now able to unwind and recover from the straining, perilous quest. Looking down at the powdery remains of the golem, Rhonin, and the others are finally able to take in a moment of serenity.

"It is done..." Kressmer states tiresomely brushing his long hair to the side.

Silver, with all of his energy siphoned by the golems persistence, falls to his knees. With his hands catching his fall, he pantingly takes a moment to recuperate.

"Finally," he speaks alleviating his strains by resting. "I would have never guessed that a golem would give so much trouble."

Rhonin bypasses his friends' words, his interest in the elementals power pulls him towards its discarded materials. While his friends stay rooted near the wall to recover, the Breton takes leery steps when approaching. Even with the earth and rubble of its body burning from the atronachs explosions, the Breton's suspicions are idle in his mind. His hands tremble, and his breathing is rapid when reaching the dirt pile.

With his fingers shaking, Rhonin slowly reaches for what parts of the grimoire have endured. The fury of their magic has scorched the leather hardback of the book. Charred pages, embers, and ash bleed from the cover. With the crumbling notes smothering his feet, he carefully examines the enchanted object. While not much conceivable qualities are left, the minor detail of scrambling letters is visible.

"S, H, and the last letter is an R," Rhonin whispers, ashamed he can't decipher the owner.

"Rhonin," the voice of Kressmer calls to him.

Briefly, the thought of keeping the book looms in his head. Perhaps, there is something he can learn from it, maybe secrets. However, given the chances of any written material surviving, and with his friends waiting, he came to his decision. After a sigh of content, he lets the journal slip his fingers as he turns his back to the rubble, leaving the discarded tome behind for others to find, or for history to forget.

From the comfort of believing that no more dangers will deter them, the group can move forward. A pair of giant, wooden doors, as tall as the golem now stands before them. By the thick layer of webs and dust, the passage of time has taken its toll on this gateway. None have come as far as they have before, they will be the first to open these gates in almost two centuries. A sense of concerning intrigue coats their hearts. A thought in the back of their minds, what lies beyond this pass, and what will they gain from their endeavors?

A brief absence of sound hovers around them. After everything they have gone through so far, rushing onward is not their first desired instinct. While Kressmer holds onto his composure, standing straight and proper, both Rhonin and Arius look to one another. With a hint of their eyes glancing at the gate, they signal in wonder, who will be the first to step up.

"So, I guess I'll go first," Kressmer calmly assumes knowing of their secretive signs.

The unpredictable comment startles the other mages', both Arius and Rhonin gasp in shock. Kressmer knowing of the minor impact smirks in amusement as he steps forward. The younger wizards look to each other, eyes wide in puzzlement. Gulping when bracing themselves for what could be awaiting them, they walk by the Dunmer's side. With only a foot gap between them and the door, the group simultaneously press their hands on the gate.

Pushing together, Rhonin and Arius work on opening separate doors, while Kressmer splits his efforts by forcing them both with each arm. Straining groans and creaks from the ancient doorways echo across the chamber and reflect into the desolate room beyond. With the dim, grey light pouring into the vacant area, the trio abruptly ends their trial of arms to peer inside. With the passage clear enough for them to slip in, a sense of deja vu clicks in their minds.

Another pathway, much shorter than the one before guides their path. Three entryways are visible, one on each side of the tunnel, and one sealed by a smaller pair of white door looming at the end. Due to the thick darkness in their path, Rhonin rises to the occasion to fix their impairment. Waving his hands as streams of light illuminate from his fingers, he casts Magelight upon his allies once more. To show their appreciation, Arius and Kressmer direct their heads towards Mathys and give a single nod.

No longer needing to worry about the mysteries of the dark, they press onward courageously. With Midium leading them, the three wizards parade the hallways, joyous that their quest may soon be over. As they pass by the other corridors, Rhonin and Arius halt together to see what lies within. On Mathys's side, an abandoned sleeping quarter with a single oval table, and a few wooden bunk beds resides in the room. Beds neatly made, but devoid of use. For Silver, he finds a dirty pantry. This room as well no longer keeps any food, and the dishes inside were cleaned and neatly organized before being abandoned.

"Anything interesting?" Midium asks, enjoying their curious tendencies.

Broken from their blank staring, both Rhonin and Arius look back to Kressmer who is still moving forward. The two hesitantly glance back into the rooms, pondering what's inside before moving on. Once the duo catches up with Midium, the three halt at the last doorway. Briefly, the three only glare deliberately, mentally fixating themselves for what may be on the other side.

"There is no runes or triggers around the door," Rhonin discreetly informs them as he scans every aspect of the wall and entrance. "Maybe the old guild didn't want to risk harming what's on the other end."

"We're finally catching a break," Arius rejoices with a sigh.

"Now let us see if our efforts paid off," Kressmer comments, refraining from being optimistic.

Again, Midium places his palms on the inner corners of the door. This time opening the entrance alone, the younger mages' from the sides look into the momentarily blackened room. Now granting them entry on its own, the doorway moves pass Kressmer's hands. The group becomes frozen in their tracks as the environment begins to act on its own. Vibrant colors flow from their hands as they take defensive action at the automated surroundings.

With the gates departing entirely, the long slumbering magic of the halls awakens. Lay lines of Magicka course to every corner of the room, pumping the heart of the now visible study. As the dormant powers pulsate throughout the area, numerous sources of light appear and gleam to their presence. The once dull and dried up torches that hang on the walls now burst into wild flames that swiftly calm. The marvelous sight of what was hiding in the darkness leaves them in awe. Deactivating their spells, and unable to speak, a sense of calm and glee fills their hearts.

As if never left to wither away by the new era, the disciples of the Mages Guild have finally reached their goal. The long-abandoned Arcanium of the original order is unscathed by the solitude and passing of time. No dust, debris, or damage has come to any of the countless books that tower above them. The dark oak furniture and hardwood walls are fresh and unnaturally clean. Although the study hall has just two floors, the many shelves and display cases house more tomes than any could count. Much of it forbidden and locked away, others forgotten and left in the furthest corners of the library, and even more only to be handled by the most qualified.

"This is it," Rhonin speaks, being overwhelmed by the marvelous library. "We finally made it."

"I-I have no words," Arius relating with Rhonin is mesmerized by the astonishing sight.

The overflowing cheerfulness of the younger wizards partially spreads to the elder Midium. While not soo entranced by the Arcanium, he does find delight in the success of their struggle and the reward.

"Well, there are plenty of words here lads," he jokingly remarks with a gentle grin. "Let's see what we can find here."

Taking his proper stance, he casually takes his steps forward into the heart of the library. Rhonin and Arius only stare in confusion for how calm Kressmer is.

"That's all you have to say?" Silver questions with a fogged head.

"When you lived as long as I have, you expect the unexpected," Midium comments as he proceeds.

As if knowing how he was going to react, the typical behavior of the Dunmer gives Mathys and Silver a warm hearting chuckle. Even at a distance, they can almost hear Kressmer having a hushed laugh to himself. With minds carefree and knowing that the lethal threats of their pursuits have passed, the group spreads out to claim their just reward.

The isolation from the outside and the indulgence of reading material steals away their attention. None of them could accurately guess how long they have been within those walls of books and old relics. However, at this moment, the group has lost care in it. An opportunity like this would not be available to anyone else. So, the group was going to take their chances and prolong their stay, hoping that their absence won't cause suspicion.

Each one takes great delight in this exploration. At this time, Arius examines and studies the many relics behind the glass cases. From deceased skulls of vampires to glowing wisp cloth, and even encrusted jewel crowns of old kings fills him with joy. The variety of artifacts made the battle mage more and more enticed with each object. An excitement that he tries to contain, but only grows the more he browses. In the end, none of them compare to the last artifact that he discovers.

Sitting alone, atop a tall red cloak pedestal with golden bars supporting it, is an object with greater rarity than a flawless diamond. An item, with a name that holds as great of weight as the name of the gods themselves. Once again, due to being overcome with intrigue, Arius is silent at his findings. Unable to fight his urge to approach, he marches excitedly towards it. Hovering around it, Silver finds himself within arms reach of an Elder Scroll.

This artifact made with dazzling metal and littered with jewels and markings is believed to be as old as Nirn itself, and hold mysteries of the world's past, present, and future. There are an unknown amount of these scrolls in the mortal plain. Even so, not many ever see one of these scrolls in their lifetime. An order called the Ancestor Moth Cult are the only known people who can read these scrolls, without the need of dwarven technology. For even with proper training one could become blind, or become insane from just a glance inside the scripture.

Even though the risks of peering inside are no secret to Arius, the temptation is too much. His fingers shake, and his hands vibrate as he slowly reaches out for the scroll. A bright, ecstatic smile stains his face as he draws closer to retrieving it. However, his eager actions are thwarted with only a few inches of space away by an intervening hand. With a grip latching onto his wrist, Arius in surprise flinches when turning to see who it is.

"I strongly advice against that," Kressmer with a stern look, but calm tone recommends when looking down at his friend.

"Kressmer," Arius initially startled, now is in relief for the company. "You know what this thing is, don't you?"

"Yes, it's an Elder Scroll..." Midium removes his tight hold from Silver's wrist. "One of the most dangerous artifacts in all of Tamriel, and possibly Nirn."

"Dangerous? But this relic can be so useful," Arius pleads in minor confusion. "It could possibly tell us of our future."

"It can, but do you know what else it could do?" Kressmer leans in towards Arius, giving an impish smile.

"Uh..." The immense pressure of Midium's out of place charm prevents Silver from even giving a proper response. With the Dunmers black shadow over him, the Imperial can only wait to see what dark thoughts are producing this concerning, mischevious aura.

"Some go blind, others become permanently insane, and even some rumors say that a man's brain can liquify from just a single glance of the ethereal page within." Kressmer bluntly states still glaring into the windows of Arius's soul. As fast as his malice came, Midium with the gentleman appearance pulls away, standing and with an innocent smile on his face asks a question. "So now do you understand why I'm insistent?"

Still stricken from the alarming act, Arius only nods in acceptance as a response. His breathing stutters by his shaking, nervous body.

"Good, you young races sometimes don't learn your lesson until it's too late," he grants Arius his insight as he leaves him to ponder his words of wisdom. Silver, only taking a single glance back at the scroll has come to his senses. Without a second thought, he leaves the Elder Scroll, even with the allure of power clinging to his mind.

Rhonin, in another section of the Arcanium, browses the countless number of books that the Guild has preserved. He stands on the second floor of the library, walking along a gold railing as his eyes glimpse each tome. His hands slide across both the bars and the covers of the books. Pure fascination and delight fill his heart, this very room would be a perfect paradise to him. The feeling of never-ending reading material in his reach, and away from any harm and unwanted socialization is the place of his dreams. Of course, even this knowledge filled room has its mysteries.

"Mage..." A whisper calls to him, the hairs on the back of his neck stand at the cold tone.

Rhonin with concern for who is watching him redirects himself in shock. The mage dashes his eyes in every direction, glancing back at where he came, the floor beneath him, and even above. Whoever has drawn his attention cannot be seen.

"Mage..." Again, the hushed word is spoken, and once more the presence seems to be behind him.

Now frightful of the unknown watcher, he turns back. This time, emerald energy forms in his palms, and despite not wanting to fight in this environment, he is ready to do so. However, upon focusing his sights back where he was heading before, all desire to use magic leaves him. Far off in the distance, at the corner of his eye, a violet hooded figure haunts the level below him. A blue mist protrudes from the bottom of its cloak, and even a dim light emits from inside its hood. While the apparition would make many feel unpleasant, Rhonin gets a different reading. To him, this is not an evil force, but a watchful guide.

Intending to head down the spiraling stairs beside him, Mathys wishes to confront this entity out of curiosity. He moves at a neutral walking pace, as to not alarm the figure, nor to blindly put himself into possible danger. Yet, this careful thinking does him no good. Right as he turns away from this spiritual individual and looking back, they were gone. Only a second had passed after turning away, and somehow its as if the person was never even there. Even so, due to a unique allure to learn more, he rushes to the location of the figure.

Even as he arrives, there is still no trace of the illuminating spirit. Once again, looking around the area for clues, Rhonin cannot find the source of the looming soul. Instead, something even more peculiar catches his eye. Facing the spot the ghastly person was, Mathys discovers something just as strange. An old, leather torn book with blue shining pages sits on a shelf. This single journal stands out above the rest, not only because of its magical qualities but also due to it's placing. Out of every text that he has rummaged through, this was the only cookbook that he has seen.

Like a moth to a light, Rhonin reaches for the book without any worry. Just from a single touch from the tip of his finger, the spell around the tome begins to undo itself. Taking it into his hand, the light proves to be an illusion spell. As he holds it, the once age ruined recipe holder slowly enlarges itself. The ripped leather mends itself and becomes blood red. Flawless gems of different color form at each corner of the cover, with a ruby at its center, each representing a school of magic and bound by black markings of enchanting. Metal tips for the corner pieces of the hardbound emerge. Even with this effect happening before his eyes, the final hidden detail revealing itself is what amazes him the most.

"Shalidor..." Rhonin reads, with surprise and astonishment building up in his mind. The last secret of this tome is the name "Shalidor" writing itself upon the red cover. It was the letters of his name, that were also carved into the golem's tome.

Kressmer and Arius are currently now looking through a stack of research notes and books of their own findings. Silver is now in a state of relief after what transpired. Still, the intriguing thought of what the Elder Scroll could have held has not left his mind. Midium, while able to sense the minor struggle, looks passed it to continue researching. As the two are working, a familiar and cheery voice is heard running to them.

"Kressmer, Arius!" Rhonin calls out to them.

Silver and Midium turn to the source of the voice, from a distance, they can see an excited Mathys charging at them.

"What did you find, Rhonin?" Kressmer questions, with amusement to the young mage's excitement,

The frantic search for the rest of his group has hindered Rhonin's stamina. With his hand held out to gesture that he needs a break, he plants his feet into the hard floor to keep himself balanced.

"I knew, something was different, with that golem we fought," he tells them lightly gasping for air.

"I believe you already established the reasoning behind that," Arius recollects scratching his head in disarray.

"It wasn't just because of the spell that was used to make it," Rhonin informs them. To go into further detail of his findings, he takes the grimoire he found in hand and displays its cover. "It was because of its maker."

Silver and Kressmer look down at the magical tome. Arius finds the design of the book to be astonishing due to the jewels and smooth red material. His eyes are wide and locked onto the perfect gems that sparkle from the candle lighting. For Midium, it is the simple signature of the author that pulls his focus.

"Shalidor..." The Dunmer reads aloud with minor intrigue.

"Wait, who is Shalidor?" Arius questions, just as mentally lost as before.

Kressmer walks to Rhonin, the two of them look towards Arius each showing confusion in a different way. Mathys is overall in a boggle over how a mage cannot know such a legendary name. His mouth hangs open, and his eyes become wide. While Midium only lifts one eyebrow, with slight disappointment and interest over his friend's absent knowledge.

"Shalidor is a prodigy," Rhonin tells him, with his passion for the topic growing as he explains. "He is one of the first ever recorded archmages in the world. He is the mage, every spell user strives to be!" Mathys gets up close to Arius as he excitedly continues telling the archmages legacy, much to Silver's discomfort. "They called him the Archmagus because he did things with magic that many even to this age can't do."

A calming hand from Midium is placed onto Rhonin's shoulders, he smiles at the positivity of the eager Breton. With this opening available, an uncomfortable Arius takes a step back to regain his personal space.

"Actually, now that you mention it," Kressmer recalls as he returns to the table.

The group faces the same counter space that stacks of books stand atop of. Many of them appear very old and very few have remained in pristine condition. Rhonin and Arius walk to the corners of the table, looking at the piles of notes and research materials.

"I believe that one of these books mentions a story about Shalidor's past," Midium mentions, his quick glances showing his uncertainty for which volume it is.

"Which begs the question, how do we get all of these novels out of here?" Silver questions, waving his hand over the many books. Even passing his hand by Rhonin's location to imply whatever notes he has also brought. "There are well over twenty of them which makes them way too heavy, and we can't exactly sneak these out of here and through the city without being caught."

"Actually," Rhonin comments, raising his hand to shoulder height.

Kressmer and Arius turn their heads to him, both looking towards him as he awkwardly waits for them to give their attention.

"There might be a way," he tells them as he lowers his hand.

Immediately, Mathys starts fast walking away from them, heading to the closest open spot. Completely lost by his intentions, the other two mages' watch and wait to see what he does. Only a few feet away, in a vacant space in between a set of tables, Rhonin stops. Standing in the ideal location he requires, he removes a small sack from his satchel. From within the pouch, he pours black and grey ash onto the crimson carpet he stands on.

A large pile being spilled creates a dust cloud, forcing Mathys to back away after dumping the remains. Now at the right distance, with eyes on him, he begins casting a new spell. His hands flow with green and yellow Magicka, dancing and swirling around his palms. He bends one arm back, and with the other, directs it at the stockpile. Before their eyes, the same magic that Rhonin has brought forth also affects the ashes.

The mass of burnt debris begins to pulsate and move on its own. By the waving of Rhonin's hand, he uses his magic to guide the ash into the shape he desires. The dust rises and hardens as it forms into Mathys's imagined shape. The once burnt, grey and black remains become brown and yellow and alter into a great, wooden treasure chest. At last, now done with his spell, he disperses the Magicka from his hands.

"Incredible," Arius compliments in high praise. "He created a chest out of dirt?"

"Not quite, he restored a chest that was once ash," Kressmer corrects, also finding the feat to be impressive. "It's a simple Alteration spell that allows its user to restore damaged items. However, Rhonin made it to where he could carry around a chest with him at all times. To save himself space, and take off weight."

The praise from his allies overcomes Rhonin's emotions, making him retract back to his shy ways. Desiring to hide his bashful feelings, he keeps his face away from them while having his hands on the back of his head.

"It's nothing," he tells them, to which despite his words they can read him very easily. "This way now we can get the books out of here, without any prying eyes looming over us suspiciously."

"I'll take it that you can revert the chest back to the way it was?" Arius questions, confident in Rhonin's abilities while crossing his arms. "As well as condense the tomes?"

"Oh yes, of course," Mathys speaks confidently, jerking back to them with haste. "Lastly, we'll need to actually get out of this place."

"Not to worry," Kressmer speaks assuredly when walking up to Rhonin. "I believe I saw a lever next to the way we came in, it most likely opens the way back where we entered."

"Well, let's hope Enthir isn't waiting back that way," he states wishfully as he carries the first stack of volumes to the chest.

"Again, nothing to fear," Kressmer adds, also heading to the table to take a stack of books. "If he is, we'll just hand him that shriveled grimoire that spawned the golem. Make him think that all this knowledge is ruined by the new era."

The mages' all nod in acceptance to this plan. With little time to spare as far as they believe, the group gets to packing the supplies. Knowing how to take the next steps, the three disciples of the college work to fill the trunk with as many notes as they can. Each one carries huge stacks, to the chest and drops them in. With everything they need from the Arcanium, the trio has moved one step closer towards their ultimate goal.

Their quest is done, the long night of death-defying efforts and accomplishments has paid off. Without any further trouble, the three mages take their spoils from the abandoned library. With ease, they escape the treacherous tomb alive, as well as elude Enthir with the burnt channeling book. Reaching their tower proved to be just as effortless. Yet, the exhaustion of being awake all night, and tempting death leaves them tired and restful. With the morning sun breaking pass the mountain peaks, the group returns only to fall into a profound slumber.

Now temporarily off schedule, the group awakens to the sun already starting to set. Due to missing their daily duties, they have more free time to rummage through their appropriated books. At the center of their dome chamber, the chest that holds the tomes sits at the center. Little by little the group removes the texts from the crate, taking small stacks and placing them at the most convenient spots.

Stockpiles of new notes and research papers begin to fill the shelves and litter the floor once again. Their studies continue now with more knowledge at their disposal. During this, Rhonin searches for the tale that Kressmer mentions that references Shalidor. He skims through the pages of different books. His eyes catch glances of runes, spells, recipes for potions and poisons. Yet none of it appears to mention the archmage of old. Kressmer and Arius take it upon themselves to organize the context of the tomes they collected, leaving Mathys to his scavenger hunt.

"It would seem the books and writing inside are intact, I was skeptical with the plan to turn them to ash," Arius speaks in relief.

"You and me both," Kressmer replies, finding their unharmed quality impressive with a few nods. "But, it was better than taking multiple trips."

"Heer heer!" Arius cheers, with a mug in hand.

"Guys," Rhonin projects in delight. "I found it!"

Mathys rushes to the clearest desk, with the others walking beside him he places a black book open for them all to see. On the first page, with the title of the novel being illuminated by a lit candle reads "The Lost Conquest." The three of them hover over the book, all having an interest in the old tale.

"I think this is the book you were talking about," Rhonin refers to Midium's past comment. "I only glimpsed at a couple of pages, but I did see Shalidors name being mentioned, as well as a detail that may help us."

"What kind of detail," Arius eagerly asks when looking at Mathys.

"Apparently Shalidor created a powerful enchanted weapon, one that I've never heard of before." Rhonin looks back to him, then returns to the storybook.

"If we can learn how powerful this enchantment was, it can help us with the ring," Kressmer theorizes wishfully. "So, let's take a trip into Shalidor's past."

The three all nod to one another, each one full of hope that what they read will aid them greatly. Each one is full of optimism, and all wanting to know how this story will play out. Turning the pages rapidly, Rhonin places his finger down on the first word at the beginning of this written legend.

"Okay," he tells them to prepare for his reading. "The story goes like this."


	7. The Lost Conquest

Chapter 7: The Lost Conquest

 _Long ago, in an era long passed, lived a mighty wizard. Famous across the vast continent of Tamriel for his natural gift in magic. He bent and tangled Magicka as easily as bending and weaving string. Despite his warrior heritage, he proved that his blood did not define him, only guided him to be better. Many described him as a man whose name held great weight, and so the name Shalidor became legend. None were as devoted to magical arts as he was, this would prove to be a grave flaw._

 _Such fame would lead to jealousy, and in turn, danger. One such day, a most terrible fate fell upon him. On a rare occasion, the Archmage left his fortress of ice for supplies. It was this choice, that would put him in harm's way. While at a humble tavern, the mage had been poisoned by an unknown enemy. His power began to drain and weaken him, leaving him virtually powerless to all forms of evil. The wizard in a panic, sprinted as fast as he could across the snowy hills of Skyrim to his sanctum, where he knew for sure he'd be safe._

 _Unfortunately, his escape would not be so easily achieved. A lycanthrope assassin who failed to kill him discreetly had cornered him, and with no way to defend himself, the arcane master raised his fists ready to face the canines of death. Even his will could not keep him on his feet, however. Without even being touched, his body began to fail him. He battled his own mind to maintain consciousness, but to no avail. Looking above at the snarling creature, he felt certain that death would claim him this snowy day._

 _Until, low and behold, valiantly leaping over his head, a traveling Nord barbarian came to his aid. Clad with only the fur of a ferocious beast to cover his skin, and wielding a mighty_ axe _and shield, he took his stand against the nightmarish Lycan. Without so much as a thought, the warrior of the north charged at the beast. Swinging his_ axe _with the ease of waving a stick, while defending himself from the dagger long claws of the werewolf. The ringing of steel being scratched echoed across the frozen plains, while the anguishing howls and roars of the monster rumbled in their ears._

 _After many blows being dealt and taken, the wolf-like creature fell. To the knight's dismay, his family_ axe _had broken in two by the thick hide of the beast. Still, he approached the wizard, lending him a helping hand and even offering more protection. The two wandered across the snow until they found themselves at the mages sanctuary. For the next setting and rising suns, the warrior stood by the wizard and nursed him back to health. The Archmage, as a token of gratitude and to reward the Nord for his efforts promised to replace his_ axe _._

 _Requesting the aid of the most talented weaponsmith he knew, and gathering the right materials, the Magus created a powerful weapon worthy of his hero. Not only did the wizard keep his promise, but he also blessed it with the most powerful of magic he could bestow at the time. This_ axe _, glimmering with blue Magicka, with Nordic steel and a patch of werewolf fur would become as legendary as it's maker. This razor blade would be known as Conquest, for Shalidor intended to ensure the warrior would never fall in battle._

 _It was said that only the strongest could wield it, but for those who could, would be unstoppable in the fields of conflict. Conquest was rumored to provide its wielder everlasting prowess, no matter how long the user would fight, they would never tire, their wounds would gradually heal over time, and even those the holder fought would lose the will to continue fighting. Rumors had begun to spread like wildfire, the warrior was revered as unkillable, for every battle he fought in he was always triumphant. Despite his kind intentions, his pride eventually bested him._

 _The barbarian began picking fights with any who he felt could give him a challenge. Many grew fearful of him, even the kings and lords he fought for did not wish to anger him. His wild antics lead many to meet their ends by Conquest's blade, but none would know a swifter end than the warrior. For his ego drove him to challenge the very wizard who granted him the resonating blue_ axe _. Marching through the icy fortress of the wizard, he spouted in arrogance, desiring to do battle with the Archmage._

 _At last, the two crossed paths within the heart of the mage's sanctum. The bitter and skin numbing wind of the_ land fills _the room as the two opposing powers stare one another down. The once noble, prideless Nord warrior, has become blinded by the power given to him to protect. Now, only hunger for war remains within the muscular husk that was once a man._

 _Feeling betrayed by the Nord that once saved his life, the mage in anger did not show any mercy towards his old ally. Not only would he overpower him, but he would put him to shame. Leaping at him arrogantly, the snow warrior charged at the fellow Nord mage. With a wave of his hand, Shalidor cast the blade out of the brutes fingers. Now powerless, the Nord axeman was at his old friend's mercy. With another flick of his wrist, the Magus trapped him in a circle of ice. Now he was defenseless and was forced to endure the thought that his power meant nothing to the mage. Finally, just with a single clap, the master of Arcane drove over a dozen spikes of ice through the barbarian's chest, ending him instantly._

 _The battle was swifter than a flying arrow hitting its mark. With his friend dead, the wizard followed the Nord customs and cremated his body atop a frozen peak. At his ceremony, many of the kings and lords, as well as their people and servants attended. They all addressed their gratitude to Shalidor for ridding the land of the tyrant. Such praise served as a reminder to his thanks to the Nord warrior, much to his disgust._

 _As the rulers of Skyrim knelt to him, he only asked of one thing of them. To forget the Nords name who fell victim to his pride, as well as the blade that he wielded. To ensure that none would ever follow the barbarian's path, his_ axe _had to be forgotten along with him. The ancient kings held true to their word, along with their people, never to pass down the tale. After that day, Conquest was never seen again..._


	8. The Crime of the Era

Chapter 8: The Crime of the Era

After telling the story of Shalidor and the axe Conquest, the group falls silent to the troubling tale. Each one having a different viewpoint of the past events. The enticing power of the axe sparks Arius's fascination, an anticipating smile for what their ring might be capable of delights him. Mournful for the wizards upsetting experience, Rhonin frowns. Kressmer, unlike the younger mages', stands out the most. A kindling sense of anger consumes him, despite Midium's efforts to bottle it up, his squinting eyes give his feelings away. While on the outside none could truly notice at first, but those who look closely and stand within his heated aura would know.

"That's terrible," Rhonin whispers in pity for Shalidor.

"Betrayal is a terrible thing," Kressmer states glaring his teeth. "Especially when it's by those you believe you can trust most."

The distraught Dunmer takes a moment to himself, looking away while the others converse to clear his head.

"While it is tragic, an incredible power came out the hardship," Arius optimistically states. "Does it say how he created Conquest?"

Rhonin holding the book in hand flips the old pages with the tips of his fingers. As each slip passes his eyes, he scans whatever remaining information there could be. Despite the speed that the script is turning, Rhonin is able to comprehend the key details written within. It is the last few pages that he presses his finger down to halt the changing sheets.

"Here," he speaks with minor glee.

Leaning his head sideways next to Mathys's shoulder, Arius positions himself to gain a better view of the contents. Even Kressmer, after having a cooling moment to himself approaches. Taking in a sigh to relieve himself of his pent-up aggression, places himself on the other side of the young mage. Rhonin finds discomfort in the cramping position he is in, his head lowers and his body tenses. Although his personal space has been stripped from him, he proceeds to pass the knowledge he has uncovered.

"Well, he didn't use a traditional enchanting table," Rhonin states in a quiet tone.

"It would seem he used runes to form an enchanting circle," Kressmer suspects based off the page. "Kind of like what you did during the trials Rhonin."

"Yeah..." The level of confusion Rhonin is facing leaves him without a proper response.

"What is it?" Arius questions, pulling away and looking down at Mathys after catching the same feeling.

Midium also backs away for the young mage to have space. Rhonin, with a hiss sounding breath of air leaving his lips, stares questioning at the information on the pages.

"It says here that, while he did use the inscription technique on the soul gem like us," he becomes mind-boggling quiet again.

The older arcane users await him to complete his statement, but even as a handful of seconds pass, nothing else is spoken. The two glance at one another, looking over Rhonin's head with calm impatience.

"What?" Arius pushes for the answer in eager disarray when looking back.

"It says that he used only one soul gem..." Rhonin comments in shock.

"That can't be possible," Kressmer interjects, gently pinching the book to look at the notes. "I highly doubt even a grand soul gem could power a weapon like that!"

"He didn't use a grand soul gem," Mathys turns to the next page of notes. Inked onto the next sheet of paper is a paragraph of research and a sketch of the soul gem. This well-done drawing displays a giant jewel, by it's written measurements, this crystal is roughly three feet long, and a foot wide.

"He used what he called the Immortal Stone," Rhonin explains, pressing his finger on the stone.

Arius eases himself closer to the book, once again invading Rhonin's personal bubble. Out of blind interest in the same subject, the Breton looks pass this closeness.

"Now that's a fancy looking rock," Silver comments with enticement in his voice.

"A rare soul gem for certain," Kressmer adds. with slight disappointment in his voice. "Which makes it all the more unfortunate."

Arius and Rhonin pull away from one another, both turning to a shameful Kressmer as he heads away from them. While Silver cannot fathom why his mentor is in distress, Mathys, looking downward with a frown, relates to the unspoken issue on the Dunmer's mind.

"How so?" Arius absent-mindedly asks.

"To find a stone like that is a one in a thousand chance," Kressmer explains in an upset tone. "Maybe a one in a million..."

"And even if we got a hold of a soul gem like that, I still don't think it could meet our expectations," Rhonin adds sulking by the estimate.

At that moment deprived of hope, a glimmer of an idea erupts in Silver's mind. Being overcome with excitement, Silver lifts his finger up to grab his groups attention. However, a single detail was eluding him up until he began to act. Before he can remove himself from the spotlight, his allies notice his charismatic pose. He attempts to withdraw from them, lowering his hand and turning away awkwardly.

"What is it?" Midium asks baffling over the sight.

Rhonin and Kressmer stick their sights onto the uppity Imperial, the tension from their stares drops on him like a heavy rock. Knowing what is happening and unsure how to appropriately react, Arius's neck dips downward.

"Do you know something?" Kressmer takes a step forward to push for the answers.

"Uh," Arius is left hanging by the unwanting focus.

He steadily turns back to them, even lifting his head back into place when facing the music of his consequences.

"Well, I don't want to get your guys' hopes up," he informs them before moving on. "But, some time ago, I did catch whiff of a rumor..."

Kressmer still lost in the fog of secrecy crosses his arms. Even Rhonin finds himself more confused as he was before. The two stay in place but lend their ears to hear this gossip tale.

"What kind of rumor?" Mathys asks finding intrigue in this secret.

"Back when I was in Skyrim, I remember that my family had ties with another esteemed and wealthy clan," Silver explains, beginning to pace around them as he tells this story. "We were close friends with the Silver-Blood clan, no relations." He waves his hands side to side as he specifies their relationship.

"I believe I've heard of them," Kressmer adds his input, still contending to his own space. "They're a wealthy family who runs the most secure prison in all of Skyrim, the Cidhna Mine. They subjugate prisoners to mine silver ore for the city of Markarth."

"Exactly!" Arius confirms this information with a click and pointing of his fingers.

"I don't quite see how that can help us," Kressmer shakes his head gently.

"Well," Arius continues to wander around the room as he keeps moving with the story. "Before I left Skyrim, I had heard that the guards of the prison found something."

The puzzling mystery now entices both Kressmer and Rhonin. The two approach closer to Arius right as he halts in his track.

"What?" Mathys now joins in on the questioning.

As the conversation goes on, a warming glow of hope begins to fill the mages' chests. Even Silver no longer is confined in his tellings and has become joyous and proud as he usually is.

"One quiet and gentle night, that none could foresee trouble brewing, an earthquake struck the heart of the mine and the city!" He tells them with a dramatic burst of his voice. "While none were harmed during the calamity, something drastic did change within the heart of the prison!"

"You really are milking the bravado of this tale," Midium pokes fun at Arius's storytelling.

"For good reason," he replies with a confident smirk. "You see, after the unsuspecting rumble. The miners and guards found something just as unpredictable, a soul gem."

"A soul gem?" Both Rhonin and Midium question simultaneously.

"And not just any soul gem," he tells them as he places a hand of excitement on each of their shoulders. "A Gem that they say rivals a frost giant in size!"

"No way!" Mathys blurts out in shocking disbelief. "A stone like that could power the Numidium, just like the Mantella!"

The similarity between the Dwemer creation and Kressmer's last name confuses Silver. His head tilts to the side, and even the Dunmer has to rethink Mathys's sentence.

"Nu Midium," he emphasizes when correcting himself. "The Dwarven God that Tiber Septim used to conquer all of Tamriel! That thing was powered by a soul gem, just like the one you described."

Once the word "God" is spoken, the information becomes appealing to Arius. His arms cross as he smirks at Rhonin's history lesson.

"Now that is fascinating," he comments in cheer. "If that gem could power a god, imagine what it would do to a ring."

"Now hold on a minute," Kressmer taking a stand between them objects to their high expectations. "Let's not allow our imaginations to cloud our heads." Midium turns toward Silver with his hands pressed together. Lowering his palms downward, he delves deeper into the topic. "As amazing as this soul gem is, how does it benefit us?"

When the question comes out into the open, the cheery Arius becomes inclosed as he was a few moments ago. He directs his body to the side, looking away from Kressmer as he finds the confidence to respond. Rhonin, now also having concerns for Arius's plan faces him.

"I-I was just thinking," Silver begins letting loose his discreet words. "That may be, we-we could... "Take" it off their hands..."

An uneasy silence stiffens their jaws in place. No comforting words could briefly be spoken due to the drastic plan of Silver's making. Rhonin has even greater unsettling feeling for the situation. He places his hand over his mouth to cover his stunning reaction. Kressmer, unlike the younger mage, is not surprised but he does find the idea to be troubling. With his eyes squinting sternly, he steps closer to Arius.

"Are you suggesting, that we steal the soul gem?" He calmly asks attempting to stay civil.

"Kressmer, if we don't take it, it's just going to sit in some ditch in that mine!" Silver argues his points urgently when facing him. "No mage wants to meddle with it out of fear, because of it's dangerous and immense power! And none of the Silver-Blood family wants to waste manpower and blood getting it out due to the risk of potentially losing workers!"

"It's one thing to have stolen the books from the Mages Guild library," Kressmer reminds them of one of their crimes in a calm tone. "But it's another to take a priceless soul gem from Markarth, who the Silver-Blood clan could be intending on giving to the next High King of Skyrim."

"But with the civil war going on, that could be a long time before that crystal sees the light of day."

Kressmer, shutting his eyes and holding out his palm, signals for Arius to control his temper and to quiet himself. At first sight of this gesture, Silver does so, not even his breathing can be heard. The Dunmer's influence and serene aura quell the sporadic emotions of the Imperial.

"Okay, before you continue on, think about what is required of us," he tells the battlemage. As he proceeds with his counter-argument, Kressmer also walks around the room instinctively.

"Firstly, the voyage to Markarth would take days, maybe weeks. Then, once we got there, we'd have to find a way to sneak into Cidhna Mine, grab the massive weighted stone, then sneak out of the mine and the city, unnoticed. Then, carry it all the way across Skyrim, with a war looming around us. Then lastly, we'd have to smuggle it across the Cyrodiil border, bring it here, and then haul it up to those narrow stairs..."

The younger wizards look down the rickety walkway as Kressmer Midium's finger is directed at them. A sigh of shameful acceptance overcomes Arius. Unable to deny the facts, his head lowers as he chuckles by the thought.

"Even for us masters of the arcane, we have our limits," Kressmer gives his insight as he tries to uplift his friend's mood. "Even if we were willing to retrieve this possible stone, it would be impossible."

"Umm..." An uncertain sound hums off Rhonin's throat.

For a moment, Midium and Silver pause in place and ultimately their conversation ends. When turning towards the youngest mage, they find him slightly raising his hand to them. He makes a shy, gentle facial expression as he waits for them to hear his input. With them become silent and keeping their sights on him, he gives his opinion.

"Their... Might be a way," he tells them drawing out his words.

A sense of uncertainty forms around Arius and Kressmer as they look to one another, due to already establishing the impossible odds. Still, despite their reluctance, they keep an open mind as they lend their disbelieving ears to him.

"While... Retrieving the Soul Gem ourselves would be impossible," Rhonin adds with hesitance in his voice. "We might be able to summon it here..."

"Summon it?" Kressmer and Arius ask, just as lost as before.

Mathys, raising his finger to request their patience, he begins fast walking towards one of the many counter spaces in the chamber. Now with full interest in Rhonin's plan, the others follow along with him. Slipping by the smallest desk, he lifts up Shalidor's enchanted tome for them to see.

"I was looking into this grimoire," he informs them as he holds its cover out to them. "And I was amazed to find that this book not only carries a list of spells I've never seen before, but also one that can open rifts."

He skims through the countless pages of the unaging book of the Archmagus. A series of sigils, runes, and written notes fly by their eyes as the Breton searches for his claimed discovery. Unlike the other books, this one felt as if its pages didn't end, even after the many seconds that pass, the sheets don't stop. It's only Arius who pays mind to this detail, his eyes squint as he examines the magic behind this effect.

"Here," Rhonin pokes his finger down onto the page of his desire.

When showing the others of its contents, a ritual circle comprised of unfamiliar symbols and shapes make up the design. On the opposite page from the sketch, lies a sheet that describes the effects of this spell, as well as the ingredients needed to make it work.

"This is how we can do it," he predicts as his finger runs along the etched markings.

"What is that?" Kressmer questions, having a slight concern for the elements of this magic.

"It's a ritual that opens a pathway to a planned destination," he tells them, now developing excitement as he goes on. "This was one of Shalidor's ways of traveling to different locations so quickly. He placed these ritual circles in places that he would often go to, allowing him to move across different planes to save him time traveling."

"As much as having a magical doorway sounds useful, how is that going to help us?" Arius at a loss of clues asks.

He steps closer to Rhonin with his eyes glued to the pages of the grimoire. Even Kressmer, while not admitting it, cannot fathom the doorways use for this plan. His heels stay in place while concocting his outside thoughts to reach Rhonin's level of thinking.

"I mean, just like Kressmer stated," Silver recalls the Dunmers words. "Even if we got to Cidhna Mine, that gem weighs well over a ton! There is no way we could lift it!"

Once again, Arius and Kressmer believe they have hit a dead end. The struggle of their high demanding goal weighs on Silver, he steps away to clear his head. Even Midium shows slight exhaustion towards all of their difficult tasks, taking a seat as he buries his face in his hand. Although, deep down there is a minor relief that they will not be committing theft in his chest. Regardless, the stress-filled air around them does not remain silent, for one more theory might just work.

"What if we put the doorway underneath the stone?" Rhonin questions in an auspicious tone.

The irregular statement swipes away the negative aura's consuming Silver and Midium. Both of them lift themselves from their internal pits of despair, and with a burst of energy Arius rushes to Rhonin side.

"Say what?" He asks finding the idea both appealing and absurd at the same time.

Kressmer, with his gentle composure, gradually lifts himself from his seat. Even though he does not desire to take this route, he still decides to hear out what the younger mages' are conversing about.

"If the gem is already mined out and is just sitting idle in some random barred room, we can place the portal spell under it and have it drop down right here!" Rhonin explains, excitedly directing his hand to the center of the room.

"How would we write down the markings?" Arius asks to fill the blank spot of this plot. "I don't actually think we want to get ourselves arrested, and risk this plan not working."

At that moment, Rhonin still full of joy slams his tome shut. Much to Arius's dislike as he flinches and backs away from the cheery Breton. Even Kressmer is caught off guard, rapidly blinking and pressing his fingers against his chest.

"You said you had a friend who told you about the stone in the first place, right?" Rhonin replies with his own question.

"Uh, yeah..." Silver responds, no longer being alarmed and barely able to recall such details. "He's one of the guards... He was planning on confirming it with my family if it was true, but I left before he could tell me."

"Then if it's true, you can send him a note to ask him to do it for us," Rhonin suggests.

"That is two big ifs," Kressmer comments, standing next to them to take part in the discussion. "The first being that the stone is real, and two if Arius's friend is willing to put his life on the line."

Smacking his hand onto the discerning elf's shoulder, and blowing air through his pressed lips, Silver expresses his amusement in the comment. Even Rhonin, as subtle as he tries to be, has a hushed laugh to himself him due to the Imperial's reaction.

"A little extra gold in his pocket is all it'll take," he assures them with a quick chuckle. "Nothing to worry about."

Despite the comforting words from Arius, a crucial detail still haunts Midium's moral compass. Without even making a facial reaction, he gently pulls Silver's hands away from his shoulder.

"There is always something to worry about when it comes to breaking the law," Kressmer tells them with slight disgust for their intending scandal.

He takes a few steps away from them, scratching his chin as he leaves them to discuss the matter. However, the two mages' can sense the disdain from him, but neither knowing why.

"Why aren't you as thrilled as we are?" Arius questions, more upset than confused. "We have a chance to make this ring work, isn't that a good thing?"

Kressmer does not immediately respond, but instead just looks down at his friend with an eyebrow raised. This heart piercing gaze negates Silvers troubling mixed feelings and leaves him with pure wonder. He takes a step back, this situation reminding him of the events that transpired between the two back in the library. As he is frozen in place, Midium turns to Rhonin Mathys with his intimidating expression gone.

"Rhonin, you told me that you wanted to create a symbol," he recalls taking a step closer to him. "A symbol of unity, power, and trust, but how are you suppose to do that if this ring was born from theft?"

The revelating question strikes Rhonin in the heart, a single gasp of air leaves his lungs before succumbing to reticent. The Dunmers words even impact Arius, his consciousness is lifted into clarity now realizing the source of Kressmer Midium's dissatisfaction. Due to Mathys's long pause, he is unable to adequately answer the question.

"Is that what this is about?" Arius asks the elder mage, once more putting his hand on his shoulder.

Arius impedes, placing himself back to the sides of both Rhonin and Kressmer. The elder illusionist looks back to him, his face as dispassionate as before.

"Kressmer we don't want to steal the stone," Silver clarifies, patting his friend for assurance. Rhonin, to the side of him, nods in agreement. "But from personal experience, that gem is better off in our hands than anyone in Skyrim."

"How can you be so certain?" Kressmer asks, not taking the brave words to heart.

"I was a child when the Civil War first infected the soils of my land," he tells him, delving into his past begins to bring out a long-buried sorrow. "I witnessed first hand what chaos ensued from it, and based on every party taking involvement; I can give you three scenarios of what each side would do with the stone."

The more Arius goes into detail of the dreadful events taking place in his homeland, the more that sorrow begins to show in his eyes. As best as he tries to push through it, the watering of his eyelids cannot be ignored. Even though Rhonin stands just at the corner of the Imperial's back, he can still feel the sadness aching from his body.

"The first being the Empire will use its power to enforce their long-standing laws upon Tamriel," Silver goes on to give his theories, naming each one off as he paces around the space between Rhonin and Kressmer. "The second, the Thalmor or Aldmeri Dominion will steal it, and due to their superiority complex, they will once again try to rule over those that they see as inferior. Lastly, Ulfric Stormcloak will take it for himself, and with it establish his own empire and begin a conquest to rid the world of the Empire and Elves."

The painful predictions are close to overcoming Arius's senses. As he takes in a long, drawn-out breath, he smothers his face with his palms to shelter his heartfelt sadness. Unbeknownst to him, his fellow mages' understand the pain he has endured, but do not comment on it. A sense of guilt begins to build within the Dunmer, his head lowers forward due to his dishearten demeanor. After having a moment of reflection for his contempt, he lifts his head straight.

"Than let Rhonin decide," he suggests to Arius, offering his compliance regardless of the chosen path.

No longer shielding his face, Arius Silver wipes away any loose tears when looking back to the Dunmer. The internal hardship within him is blotted away by what he sees. Kressmer, smiling, as a proper gentleman that he's always been, watches him back. Returning the kind favor to him, Midium pats the collarbone of his comrade when facing Rhonin. Arius follows suit, also directing his sights onto the Breton.

As the duo waits for his response, Rhonin's stagefright reemerges. Barely able to manage so much attention, with the inclusion of having such a significant decision to make, he forces himself to look away to ponder the options. While his lips don't even mutter, his external behavior speak for his feelings toward the moment. His eyes widen, and his hands become restless as he builds the courage to speak. His allies grin at the amusement of his shyness, keeping to themselves while being discreet with their humorous reactions.

"It has been my dream to not only become a master wizard but to also use my power to help those in need," Rhonin states, breaking through his enclosed, bashful barrier. "I have seen many suffer, and many get hurt because I wasn't strong enough to help."

As he turns to them, his sudden preach has made his friends take his words seriously. Kressmer crosses his arms behind him, with Arius doing it forward, but with them automatically leaning on the nearest table. Always finding Mathys's perspective on the world to be admired, they smirk being proud of the youngest member of the group.

"I don't pursue power for myself," Rhonin informs them backing his speech with pride and honor. "I do it for those who I care for and want to protect, and if that means robbing it from those who would misuse it, then I don't see why anyone would object."

"Then what is your decision?" Arius questions excitedly for the implications.

"We want you to say it," Kressmer kindly requests, now with a better outlook of what has to be done.

Rhonin, pushing himself away from the counter behind him marches to his loyal friends. While he is still diffident when they look at him, he presses onward knowing they will be with him no matter what. When standing by his allies sides, glancing at each of them, he is full of confidence that he has never experienced before. Each one of them shares the same feeling, on how they would not be where they are without the other. Despite the little time that they have spent with one another, a bond as strong as kinsmanship has formed. The dangerous quest, the expectations that they have built up, and the many drinks shared with one another have made their unity stronger. They have each other's backs and will venture together even if it meant certain doom. Their fates are intertwined, and they have accepted that proudly. Although they all know the answer, Rhonin addresses the next phase of their plan.

"Let's go claim ourselves a Divine Soulgem!"


	9. The Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 9: The Calm Before the Storm

Despite their moral compasses weighing on them every step of the way, the group begins to put their plan into motion: To steal the Divine Soul Gem from the Cidhna Mine, to make their grand artifact. First, Arius sends his letter to his contact in Markarth to confirm the existence of the crystal, as well as the instructions to carve the portal sigils around it. Lastly promising to reward him handsomely should this person succeed in his task. It will take many days for the envelope to arrive in the dwarven city, and more for a response back.

During these passing days, the group takes a much-needed vacation from their experiments. At this time, the Empire's trust in the Mages Guild slowly eases as the organization proves itself safe and capable of handling what resources have been lent to them. Only a handful of days remain before the Emporer himself arrives to decide if the guild can be re-established and welcomed back into Imperial power. The high hopes of all the members have escalated to the point of early celebrating. The town is bright and full of life. Despite some who are still skeptical of magic, none could say that the many lights and shows weren't appealing.

Day or night, the streets of Cyrodiil were always packed with people and exciting displays and games for all to enjoy. The number of city guards nearly tripled due to the masses of people. Even Rhonin Mathys's group partake in the festivities. However, due to the Breton's inclosed personality, he only finds discomfort in the large crowds. Being too uncomfortable to mingle on his own, he remains close to Kressmer who does not show to mind the company. Arius, on the other hand, thrives in such events. Coming from a wealthy clan, social gatherings are no stranger to him, and he recalls countless times of how many he's partaken in.  
Kressmer and Rhonin relax at the nearest wildfire pit, with full mugs in hand. Accompanying them is Mirabelle Ervine, another member of the guild sits with them. For once, she lets her serious composer loosen to the celebration. Though she does not partake in the alcohol, she does find a way to entertain herself with the highly regarded mages.

"It's so bizarre to think, that we may be meeting the Emporer of Tamriel himself," she comments in bewilderment to the notion. "I've heard stories and too many tales to count about his achievements."

"He has most definitely accomplished much his mortal lifetime," Kressmer speaks modestly before taking a drink.

"You speak as if his life has been short..." She comments with a fascination for his words.

"Compared to the life of a mere, everyone else always appears young..."

"Speaking of, where's Enthir?" Rhonin questions after lifting his own mug.

"Probably making a shady deal," she responds with a nod of shame. "I'll admit I'm curious as to what his life was like in Skyrim? All that I've heard about it was after he lost a close friend named Gallus, he started traveling. Even went as far as Vallenwood, before turning back and heading here to the city."

"That's terrible," Rhonin replies feeling sorry for the Wood Elf.

"Indeed," Kressmer agrees but internalizes his empathy.

Just when they three needed a reason to feel cheerful again, a new, upbeat tune plays. The mind rushing and heart racing rhythm draws many to dance around and near the performers. Even the lute, drums, and flute players can't help but move around to their own beat.

"Now this is more like it," Mirabelle praises the joyous music.

Before she can even pay notice, her legs have already lifted her onto her feet.

"Would you care to dance, Rhonin?" She excitedly asks, holding her hand out to him.

Just from her kind request, Mathys becomes flustered and regresses to his shy side. Due to his little experience with social gatherings, he never properly learned to dance like others. This sadly also includes having any form of healthy relationship with a woman. He turns his head away from her while rubbing the back of it. Even with his minor giggling, she does not pay mind to his bashful reaction.

"Uh- me?" He asks for clarity due to self-doubt. "I-I wish I could, b-but I'm feeling very sore from all the work the guilds been asking of me."

"Very well," she says with a smile, knowing full well of the duties given to the member. "Have fun gentlemen."

As she takes her leave, rushing to the crowd of dancers, Kressmer raises his mug to her. Rhonin, looking back waves to her subtly with a light shake of his hand. The moment she is out of sight, the young Breton is instantly hit with regret. With disdain for his poor confidence, he lowers his head followed by a long sigh. As Mathys sulks, Kressmer beside him can sense what is going through his mind. However, before he can give some of his insight, a familiar voice is heard not too far from them.

Being taken out of his upset trance, Rhonin looks to the source of the conversation, with Kressmer doing the same. From a distance, they can spot where Silver has slipped off too. As they anticipated, the Imperial is putting his naturally gifted charisma to use. With both arms wrapped around two local maidens, he utilizes his seductive tongue on the woman, with a bright, intoxicated grin on his face.

"If only I had Arius's confidence," Rhonin mutters in minor shame.

"You don't want that," Kressmer assuredly claims. "There is a significant difference between bravery and arrogance. While Arius's ego is not a terrible flaw, it's certainly not a quality fitting of you."

More and more, Rhonin develops greater respect for the Dunmer Midium. In his mind, he cannot find a proper way to respond without being too pushy or too modest.

"You lads are fine the way you are," Kressmer makes one last comment before taking a whiff of his ale.

Rhonin only smiles, looking down at his own drink to hide his blushing expression. He too takes a sip from his metal cup. While they sit quiet and idle, their eyes glance at each of the lighten attractions. Performers of all races, fire dancers, circus performers on tightropes, and even animal charmers walk among the locals. Beasts and critters of all shapes and sizes roam the festival, and every corner of the event has something to excite the masses. Some of the local Argonian's, lizardfolk, have also taken part by either attending or dressing up as dragons to amuse the children.

"You know something," Kressmer begins speaking while placing his mug on the floor beside him. Rhonin turns to him, also placing his cup aside. "In all this time that you and I have been working together, you never once mentioned anything about your personal life."

Predicting where the conversation may be turning, a sense of concern and partial melancholy begins to grow in the Breton's chest. He internalizes this feeling in case his fears don't come to fruition.

"Arius comes from a wealthy family of demon slayers, I am a drifter with no kin, and you, I still don't know your story."  
No longer does he bury his feelings for the topic. He becomes silent and looks down at the floor because of the emotionally overwhelming subject. He frowns, and a sigh of sorrow escapes him.

"It's hard to explain, Kressmer," Rhonin replies, unable to build up the strength to speak of it. "Very few of my loved ones supported me for my choice."  
It's not too difficult for Kressmer to understand the emotional stress that his friend is enduring. Before the thought can trouble Rhonin any further, he gives his insight.

"It's not my place to involve myself in your personal life, I apologize for my rash behavior," the Dunmer excuses his comment. Rhonin nods, knowing that his intentions weren't meant to be rude. "But, if I may give you some words of advice?" Mathys lifts his head and turns back to the Dunmer with his mind open. "It is wise to never bottle up your pain, in doing so you are only causing more harm to yourself. Find someone to confide in, let your heart pour out, and by letting go of the past, you are able to move towards the future."

Rhonin smiles, accepting his words into his heart and now always holding them in his mind. After reaching down for his mug, the Dunmer follows just a few seconds behind. Once holding their flagons, they softly bang them together in a toast of agreement.

"Thank you, Kressmer," Mathys responds, trying not to show his emotional side.

"My pleasure," he replies, knowing how his comrade is feeling, but generously not pointing it out.

Just as they are about to bask in their drinks, a hammered Arius rushes at them. He forces his way in between them, nearly knocking their flasks out of their hands.

"H-h-heeeyyy ya-a guyyys, d-dooon't mmmiind me," he whispers his slurred words as he attempts to blend in by lowering his head.

Rhonin and Kressmer are speechless at the now drunk Arius, who is having difficulties just keeping himself sitting up. After glancing at one another, they begin to look around the active gathering to see what they can decipher. To them, nothing seems out of the ordinary, everyone is still enjoying their time and partying.

"What's wrong?" Rhonin questions in a hushed tone. "What happened to those girls you were hanging out with?"

"Theeeeeiiir hussssbends s-showwwed uup, sooo I raaaan," he responds, trying to cover his laughter with his cusping hands.

The Dunmer can only sigh as he lays his face into his palm. As he nods, his hand remains glued to him. Rhonin is absent of ideas for the situation, and questioningly looks down at his half-conscious friend. Arius plummets onto Rhonin's lap as he passes out from the alcohol, with a smile of satisfaction for the festive night. The sound of his snoring is muffled by the lively music and cheering around them.

The following day, even after the long night of celebration, the festival remains strong. The many shows and performances press on, pulling more towards the side of magic. The few members of the Mages Guild using their assortments of arcane abilities make their preparations for the Emperor's arrival. Levitating flags with the guilds sigil upward, and conjuring a wine red carpet in between the banners to guide their majesty to the main hall. Time is short, and with each passing hour of each day, the members of the order grow more restless and on edge by the thought.

Only Kressmer, Rhonin, and Arius do not partake in the preparations due to their indulgence from the celebration in the city. The group at this time is regaining their health and composure by resting in their isolated tower. With the sun at its peak, reigning over their lab of solitude, the Breton, Mathys is soaking in the after effects of the ale. He has his face of sickness buried into his folded arms while recuperating at a work table. The Dunmer, Midium, on the other hand, does not appear to be suffering any physical drawback from last nights ale binge. He even has found the time to neatly organize the entire groups' written research and notes of their experiments. Lastly, in the corner of the room on his bed, the Imperial Silver is curled in an anguishing ball groaning in his blank slumber.

"My stomach hurts," Rhonin whispers to himself with long drawn out words.

"That's to be expected," Kressmer replies as he continues to coordinate their paperwork. "Perhaps you should stick with the lighter drinks."

Only peeking an eye out of his arms, he tiringly watches a non-woozy Kressmer clean the entire lab. Stacking the papers and novels into specific piles, each item neatly placed gives him relief and contempt.

"How are you completely fine?" Rhonin questions in envy for the Dunmer's tolerance.

"Alcohol has never really had much effect on me," Kressmer replies, smirking over his rare resistance. "I actually never drank much mead until I started accompanying you two."

Rhonin, lifting his head straight and with his squinting vision stares at a tireless Kressmer with even more intrigue. However, before he can make a groggy comment, a relatable voice is heard behind him.

"You guys are too loud," a migraine afflicted and stomach cramping Arius complains.

His fellow mages' turn their heads back to him as he struggles to lift himself up. Once again he grumbles in discomfort for how he recklessly harmed his body. With the unsettling pain antagonizing him, he lifts himself off his bed and grasps his head as he looks away from the blinding sunlight above him.

"Gods, my head is pounding," he tells them soaking in the achs.

"That would either be from your rapid consumption of alcohol or when Rhonin dropped your head when carrying you to your bed," Kressmer suggests nonchalantly as he continues cleaning.

"That was an accident," Rhonin claims, waving his hands and glancing back and forth at his friends apologetically.  
Kressmer, grinning in amusement, heads over to one of the few counter spaces. Being too distracted by his migraine, he pays no mind to their actions. Atop the counter, is neat stacks of books and a single, tiny, metal cup of hot tea steaming in the middle. Taking the shot in hand, Kressmer makes his way towards Arius. He lightly places the drink onto the stand next to him.

"Whichever it is, this should do the trick," Kressmer mentions before returning to his cleaning.

Arius, with a heavy headache, still lingering in him does not acknowledge the canter immediately. He remains leaning forward, letting all the blood in his head pump back into his body to lessen the thumping noise in his mind. Silver shakes his head trying to straighten his thoughts and focus. When doing so, he finally takes notice of the drink beside him. Sluggish with his actions, he steadily reaches for it. When grasping it and lifting to his lips, the robust stench hits him harder than the mead did. The smell takes him back, leaning away and coughing from the aroma.

"What in the name of Oblivion is that?" He questions revulsive of the liquid.

"Deathbell tea," Kressmer answers, proud that he is finished freshening the chamber at that moment.

A sense of bewilderment and concern falls onto the younger mages'. The two look over to Kressmer questioning his unheard method of toxin purging. The alarming title for his concoction gives unease to Silver when directing his sights to the cup.

"You have Deathbell?" Rhonin asks absurdly towards the implication. "Isn't that herb incredibly rare?"

"And poisonous?" Arius loudly asks at the drastic concoction.

"I suppose if the dosage is high enough it can produce a lethal poison," Kressmer responds with a quick chuckle following after. "But, if light enough and mixed with the proper minerals, can make a powerful anti-toxin."

Arius, judging the abnormal insight of Kressmer's words, is hesitant. He twirls the cup in his hand as he ponders whether or not to drink the medicine. While doing so, the disgusting smell still reaches out to him. Unable to stand scent, his body shivers with his tongue vacating his jaws in revolt. Even with his doubt stalling his desire to cleanse himself, the Imperial knows that he can trust his Dunmer friend. Bracing himself with a sigh of acceptance, he mentally pushes himself for what he is about to do. His eyes clamping shut and with blind action, he swallows the contents in the shot in a single gulp.

By his sickening expression, the tea's sharp tasting bite proves to be just as harsh as it's foul-smelling bark. His reaction even makes Rhonin from a distance cover his mouth in distaste. Kressmer, on the other hand, finds the response to be humorous. Quietly to himself, he chuckles with his clenched fingers over his lips.

"That reminds me," he clicks his fingers as a sudden thought crosses his vast mind.

Next to his leg is a well-crafted bucket. Without even looking down at it, he pushes the side of his foot into it. The wooden container smoothly slides across the stone floor under it. Rhonin and Arius's eyes follow the source of the scraping sound emitting from it. Kressmer, without trying, had unbelievably aimed his hit just right, making the bucket halt right as it hit the Imperial's foot.

"You're going to need that," the Dunmer claims still keeping his back to them.

"Why?" Arius, being startled by the sudden comment questions.

"Three... Two... One."

At the end of Kressmers countdown, a most troubling event occurs. Premtively, and without any warning, Arius becomes afflicted with a severe gut-wrenching effect. Even when shielding his mouth with his palm, he knows there is no stopping his bodily function to vomit. With only a few seconds to spare, the Imperial lunges his arms for the bucket that was kicked over to him. Swinging it up to his face, he positions himself for what is to come. While the others could not see what is happening, the regurgitating sounds paint a clear picture. Even Rhonin, with his eyes peeking and shielding his own lips, becomes ill just from the noise and imagery.

"Would you care for a drink as well, Rhonin," Kressmer offers, holding another tiny cup of hot tea in hand.

Without the need to even conceive the possibility, Rhonin jerks his head at the Dunmer with dread on his face.

"No, no thank you, I'm fine!" He states firmly while waving his hands again.

"And how are you feeling, Arius?" Kressmer asks after lightly chuckling to Rhonin's reaction.

For a moment, with all of the air projected out of his chest, Silver is unable to respond. Only more sounds of disgust and distaste hum out of him. It is in this quiet moment that a most abrupt bang is heard. Coming from their front doorway, a series of loud knocks nearly startles the young, hungover mages. Kressmer, being the closest to the porch, makes his way to peer at the visitor. Exiting the dome chamber, and with the noon sun glimmer the golden railing, the Dunmer leans over it. Awaiting at the doorway is an Imperial courier, wearing the garbs that represent the Empire.

"Message from the grand city of Markarth!" The message carrier announces, looking up as he does so. "Is there an Arius Silver here?"

Just as he questions the Dark Elf, Arius, wobbling in his footsteps, emerges from the lab. As Kressmer anticipated, his tea cleared away his comrade's sickness, mostly. While he is no longer to sore to move and no longer enduring a harsh migraine, he is still very much exhausted. Slouching on the bars of his porch, Silver announces himself.

"That would be me," he states in a groggy tone. "Just throw it up here."

As requested, the courier opens up his satchel. Within it is a small package with wrapping and string covering it. With little effort as if needing to do this often, he flips the contents up to the balcony. As it spins in the air, Arius with little care holds his hand out. Miraculously, the package enters his grasp. Even when sick, he is capable of taking hold of the delivery. Upon receiving it, he reaches to his belt. Clipping a sack of coin from it, he hangs it over the messengers head. After the courier stances himself accordingly, Silver drops the pouch and making it land right into the Imperial's hand.

"Long live the Empire!" The stranger expresses his gratitude as he marches away from the tower.

"Yeah, whatever," Silver replies with a hushed comment.

Both Arius and Kressmer walk back inside the chamber, with Rhonin awaiting them. The three of them all share a feeling of intrigue at what has been delivered to them.

"What is that?" Rhonin asks, now fully awake and lively as can be.

"Hopefully, good news," Arius replies taking a seat at where Rhonin was a few moments ago.

The Dunmer Midium and Breton Mathys loom over him as he begins unwrapping the package. He takes no time in being subtle when opening it, ripping at the paper sheet over it and snapping the threads as he yanks them. Behind the paper cover, is a wooden box not even big enough to hold a loaf of bread. Only a single metal clamp is keeping what's inside sealed. Upon clicking it open with the tip of his thumb, Arius proceeds to open the container. The group leans in closer as the lid is removed. At the top is a single, envelope stamped with the Empires royal crest. Beneath it is a small journal, with freshly printed pages and a smooth leather cover.

"What do we have here?" Arius questions, finding more interest in the letter.

As he takes the sealed paper and paces away from his seat, Rhonin takes a look at the notebook instead. After unbuckling the strap that kept it shut, he begins to swiftly examine the notes on each page. Kressmer peeks his head at the journal as well while Arius tears open the document. He too is able to speed read the response message, his eyes dash at each corner of the page as he does so. Getting a full summary of what is written, Silver smirks, internally wanting to cheer aloud.

"I knew I could trust him," Arius comments boasting his opinion.

Full of anticipation from the excellent news written in the letter, he rushes back to his group. Once getting to the side of Rhonin, he informs them of what he knows.

"Gentlemen, we're ready to proceed with the next phase," he tells them, restraining his excitement. "The runes have been placed, all we have to do it open the vortex here."

"You're friend did a lot more than that," Rhonin states in awe. "This is a journal written by the court wizard of Markarth."

Everyone's eyes are now at the documented notes in the Bretons hands. He flips through the pages with such haste that the others can barely keep up.

"Apparently he was doing experiments on the stone," Rhonin tells them becoming more interested in the notes the more he reads. "The earthquake that led to the stones discover was caused by a miner hitting it with his pickaxe by mistake."

"What kind of experiments?" Arius questions finding the reckless thought to be troubling.

"He used a variety of dwarven tools to try and harvest from it, each attempt having no real results" Faster than they could have predicted, the last page is laid bare for the trio to see. "But, I guess he had to stop because a series of unusual events started happening."

"Like odd weather events?"

The coincidence of his question being precisely related to the answer stuns Rhonin. He along with Kressmer turn their heads to Silver, who hasn't realized the connection. All three of them are lead into a mind-boggling state.

"Yeah..." Rhonin replies, trying to figure out how his friend could know.

"Well, my contact mentioned that an unsuspecting storm brewed in not too long ago," Arius explains with slow words of confusion. "That's why it took him soo long to respond."

Deciphering and calculating the information, they each think to themselves on what they know. As the absence of voice and sound settles in, only a single image looms in their consciousness. Arius finding the notion and idea to be ludicrous shakes his head rapidly. Rhonin and Kressmer share his point of view on the matter, but can't help but let their imaginations play out the scenario.

"Could the soul gem really be capable of altering the weather?" Rhonin questions, emotionally drawn to the possibility.

"It's impossible," Arius replies in denial of the theory. "A minor tremor, I could understand that, but rain, lightning, thunder?"

"We are in the middle of a dry season," Kressmer comments leaning towards believing the connection. "It would take a great source of Magicka to cause such odd weather patterns."

"Regardless," Arius steps in between his fellow mages'.

The group becoming sidetracked by the speculations drains the Imperial's patience.

"If Markarth is already allowing the stone to become a court wizards plaything, that means we only have a limited amount of time before they may escalate their intentions," he passionately states with certainty.

Knowing the scale of the situation, Rhonin becomes just as frantic as the Imperial. He looks back to Kressmer, who calmly stares back with his arms behind him. Assuring him that he stands with him as well, Midium tilts his head.

"Then it's time to get to work," Mathys announces to them. "It's time to claim the stone before it's too late."

As if they had run through this plan numerous times, they each move to separate parts of the room to start different tasks of preparation. Arius, being the physically strongest of the group begins to clear the chamber floor of its heavy furniture. He pushes the tables to the sides, the screeching sound of the wood on the hard floor is contained in the dome. He takes little effort in placing the chairs and small countertops to the edge of the room.

Kressmer must work along with Silver in making a vacant spot for the stone. Except, he tends to the stacks of research notes and books so Arius can relocate the movables. He works to remove them and find new locations for them. He takes massive arm fulls to speed up the process, but even so, the bookshelves become overstocked in no time. The disorder of being forced to place the study material in improper locations begins to agitate him. However, with years of practice, he is able to hide this struggle.

Rhonin stands at the dwarven pillars that hold the dome and building together. He places his hand on it, in his head he calculates the strength and stability the foundation has. Patting it, he hopes for their endurance to be of grand quality. In preparation for what he must do next, he gently rubs his hands together. As his fingers and palms brush together, tiny bolts of green electricity and yellow steam corrode them. Upon smacking them to the dwarven plate, he activates his spell.  
With his magic, he molds a portion of the metal into a ring that extends outward. His fingers latch around it as he pulls it out. As he continues to do so with the rest of the pillars, Arius finishes up with clearing the floor. Moving on, he goes to the staircase, where a pile of separated chains resides. Grabbing onto the fist-sized links of metal that connect with one another, Silver begins to yank and drag them to the loops that Rhonin created. On one end of the chain, he attaches it with the ring. He repeats this task three more times as he remains a step behind Rhonin.

After connecting the chains with the walls, the duo tackle one more step in their plan. Two curved pieces of steel lay near the staircase, near where the links were. These two parts connect together, to form a large shackle. Finishing up at the same time as them, Kressmer follows beside them. Combining their efforts together, they each pick up one piece at a time and head to the center of the chamber. While it's not too much of a struggle, the frowning looks on their faces and their synchronizing growls make their discomfort amusingly obvious. The mages' second attempt proves to be just as tiresome.

With the two parts at the center of the chamber, the trio takes a long breather from the physical exercise. Kressmer appears to be just slightly winded, with Arius stretching as he pants, and Rhonin slouching over while holding his knees.

"Now that the troublesome part is out of the way," Arius points out in relief. "Let's add the finishing touches."

Both he and Midium go to opposite sides of the shackle. Each grabbing the other ends of the massive chains, they pull them to the large ring. Rhonin, after cooling off, once more creates several rings of metal to connect with the steel links. Arius's side is the first to be complete, with Kressmer's right after. However, the row of metal links are too long, they need to shrink them so the shackle will hang in the air.

"Rhonin," Kressmer requests his attention. "I need you to use your Alteration to reduce the length of the chains."

"Understood," Rhonin replies with a quick nod.

"Arius, I'll need you to summon your atronachs so we can melt down the rest of them while melding the remaining links together."

"That shouldn't be an issue," Arius assures him with a smirk.

As requested, the Imperial calls upon the violet flames of Oblivion. The calm and silent flares channel from his wrists and palms as he tethers his flame atronachs into the realm of Mundas.

"Aren't you guys worried they'll burn the place down?" Rhonin asks in a sudden panic.

The Breton's startled reaction greatly amuses Silver, making him burst out laughing into his closed fist.

"First off it's near impossible to catch stone on fire," he comments in happy defense. "Secondly, my maidens will only burn that which I say, and their very steady hands don't cause such accidents."

After his assuring comment, he snaps his fingers as a signal to the elementals. At his command, they each levitate over to an alternate chain and grab on. Rhonin is already carrying his own, along with Kressmer on the other side. Lastly, Arius moves in front of Mathys to assist him with lifting the heavy links. Right as everyone gets themselves in position, Kressmer uses a unique ability to match the atronachs. Before their eyes, the Dunmer catches ablaze, with his eyes burning bright red. The younger mages gaze in mesmerization for his display of power.

"Ancestor's Wrath," Rhonin whispers in awe. "I've never actually seen a Dunmer use it before."

"Let's not waste any time gawking," he tells them slightly proud of the praise. "Let's get to it."

With a nod of acceptance, they begin lowering the length of the chains. As the elementals pull at them, the intense heat from their grips begins to melt down the access links. Kressmer is able to keep up with the lesser daedra, being unfazed by the liquid, smoldering metal that drips from his fingers. At his feet, the watery mineral instantly solidifies when hitting the stone floor. While Arius deals with the weight of the heavy steel, Rhonin uses his white mist like magic to make each piece corporeal. Slowly, but surely, the length of the chain is gradually decreasing.

After less than a handful of minutes, the shackle now hovers above the ground. With their job done, the fiery maidens take their leave, blowing a kiss to their master before departing into a purple spiral of energy. Arius waves to them with a prideful grin, while Rhonin blushes and looks away. Walking to them as he shakes his arms and body to extinguish his blazing aura, is Kressmer.

"I'm impressed," Arius compliments when looking to him. "I've never heard of a Dunmer keeping himself ignited for so long."

"With the right balance of focus and emotion, one can accomplish many things," Midium modestly replies as he brushes his shoulders. "Now, how does this "Oblivion Gate" work?"

"Well, fortunately, it's not too complex," Rhonin tells them as he stands next to the great shackle. "Usually each location with the gates sigils were interconnected, like multiple streams of water." He leans on the metal band that has been risen just under his shoulder's height. "However, with so many era's passing since Shalidors gates were used, the only one that our portal should be linked with is the one in Markarth."

"Which is right beneath the stone," Arius adds shaking his pointer finger.

"Exactly," Rhonin lifts himself straight up before pointing to the ceiling. "So once we open ours, it should activate the one in the dwarven city, and drop the stone through the rift right here."

A moment as brief as taking in a breath of fresh air, Kressmer thinks to himself of the plan. Despite every precaution and every careful step they have taken, one thing still doesn't have his complete confidence.

"What are the risks?" He sternly asks with his arms crossed.

"In all honesty, I could only see two possible bad outcomes," Mathys starts to explain, but becomes slightly inclosed as he goes into detail. "First being we'll accidentally tare a small hole into a realm of Oblivion, but given we're three trained mages, we should be able to shut it easily."

"And the second?" Even Arius wishes to know due to becoming slightly fearful.

"If we can't maintain focus, the rift becomes unstable and shatters the soul gem into a thousand pieces..."

Even though both scenarios are grim and disastrous for the group, it is the detail of poor attention that restores their faith. Kressmer and Arius both show different signs of relief, due to knowing that concentration won't be an issue for any of them. The Dunmer exhales as he pats the left side of his chest. Arius's optimism presents itself as his usual, charming smile and a light giggle. This, in turn, makes Rhonin just as delighted as they are. Yet, even with the glimmer of hope lifting their spirits, one more thing still eludes the Dunmer Midium.

"There is one last thing I wish to know?" He asks Arius while poking him to get his focus. "Will the foundation hold?"

"The Architect who made this place boastfully claimed "This chamber could hold a dragon!" if need be," Arius replies in a cocky tone. "I'm pretty sure it can hold a pretty rock."

"You say that as if you've seen a dragon," Kressmer comments poking fun at the high and mighty claim.

"And what, you have?"

For only a brief second, the Dunmer is idle. The only response he gives is a tilt of his head, and a small shift of his shoulders reaching upward. As he walks to a different part of the room, Rhonin and Arius look to each other in disarray for his answer. Despite the abnormal implication, the two brush it off as a playful joke, using the same gesture as he did before following behind.

"The question of the matter is, how do we get the rift to open above out new chandelier?" Arius questions, not considering the skylight in the room until now.

"Leave that to me," Kressmer responds holding his hand out. "May I see the page with the runes?"

Rhonin, urgently heading over to one of the pushed tables, grabs a hanging sheet of paper. Inked onto it, is a perfect replica of the page that was in Shalidor's tome. Once swiping it from the counter space, he rushes to a patient Kressmer. Lightly placing it in his hand, the Dunmer give a gracious bow of his head before bringing it into his view. As he examines it, he lowers himself to stand on one knee. Only after a short glance at the paper, does he place it down onto the floor. Holding his hand above it, the ink begins to glow a fluctuation of white and light purple colors.

The younger mages watch in wonder of what he'll do, what happens next is something neither of them could have expected. As Kressmer lifts his hands, the drawing in the sheet follows his palm. Not only that, the effects of his magic increase the size of the runes the longer they remain outside the page. Guiding them with his fingertips like puppets on strings, he lifts them above his head. Directing his hand upward, the large enchanting shapes head to the ceiling. Once reaching just above the steel ring, they flatten straight across the center of the chamber.

"Incredible," Rhonin and Arius comment in praise.

"But how-" Right as Arius requests information, he is interrupted. Seeing a grin from the Dunmer mage, the Imperial can already guess what his response will be. "Never mind, I get it, you're old, you know a few tricks."

"Lad you haven't seen anything yet," Midium replies trying to cut back his pride. "What's next?"

At this point, each mage except for Rhonin stands at one of the three corners of the ritual spell. Mathys rushes to the needed spot on the last tip of the incantation.

"Now we just need to fuel the sigils with Magicka and keep the portal open until the stone makes it through," he explains as he checks to see if everything is in order. "Whenever you guys are ready..."

Their locations are adequate for this ritual, as well as the runes. The group is in the best of physical and mental shape to take on this challenge, as they can all tell by glancing at one another. At this moment, they share a single thought and opinion. It's now, or never, after this, there is no turning back. Taking the Divine Soul Stone will affect their lives permanently. This mutual choice is not just a simple theft, it will be the crime of the era. Not only are they stealing from the city of Markarth, but also from all of Skyrim, and to some extent the Empire itself. Even so, the ill thoughts, the questionable moral dilemma, to them it will all be worth it in the end. It is facing this choice together, that they all come up with the same decision as one.

"Let's do this," Rhonin preaches, stating what they all were thinking.

Conjoining their efforts, Arius, Rhonin, and Kressmer reach their hands at the Oblivion Gate sigils. Pouring out of their skin and from their palms is radiant blue energy, Magicka in it's purest form. As they channel their streams at the runes, the shapes as well change into the same color. As they do so, the symbols start to circle inward to the center of the design. Every passing second, their speed increases to the point that the mortal eye cannot keep up. Eventually, the pattern contorts into a sudden calm vortex of maroon and black lights. At the heart of it, is complete darkness that not even a star could pierce through.

The group can do nothing, but stare in both amazement, and fear of what could come out. The disturbing beauty of the portal sends a series of mixed feelings to the mages' as they continue to peer into the black abyss. It is only the Dunmer that does not get swayed by the haunting emptiness. Instead, he stares intently, and unfazed by it. Still, they press on, continuing to fuel the gates opening with their Magicka supply. Even with this short time passing, it feels far more drawn out to them due to the seriousness of it. This event would pale in comparison to the experience that is to come.  
"Look!" Arius calls out, thrilled by what he is seeing.

The time that was spent in feeding the portal their energy has finally paid off. At the center of the rift, a solid object begins to slip its way through. The more it breaks through the layer of shadow, the more that is revealed to the group. What first presented itself as tan color stone, is now gradually showing itself as a rigid boulder.  
"What is that?" Rhonin questions in doubt of what they are bringing to their chamber.

Just as he states his question, an eye piercing answer is given to him. From the cloak of darkness, a blinding light breaches to the other side. Both Arius and Rhonin are blinded by this sudden shine, forcing them to lose concentration and break their Magicka channels. Following after, Kressmer loses his grasps on the vortex as well. As the group loses their hold on the ritual, the remaining mass of the stone plummets through the gate before it violently shuts. The entire tower rumbles by the impact, nearly knocking the mages off their feet. The repercussions do not end there.

Unbeknownst to the three, the stones forceful exit had an extended effect on the Imperial city as well. Upon entry to this part of the Mortal Plane, an untraceable and unforeseeable wave of Magicka releases into the land. This flux of power reaches to the farthest parts of the province. The Capital, along with all of its civilians are left defenseless by an unsuspecting tremor of energy. The homes, taverns, and even the White-Gold tower shake from this unsuspecting blast.

While the citizens and the people of the Imperial city are shaken up by the seismic activity, no one is harmed nor is any structure severely damaged. Yet, the feeling of insecurity and absence of safety now plagues the hearts of the people of Cyrodiil. Although the guards come to everyone's aid and attempt to calm them all, even they are afflicted with the same dread. No such disturbance has occurred in many years. What could be the cause is all they can ask?

Back in the mage tower, where none suspect the source of the shockwave to originate from, the mages' finish recovering from the stunning light. While the blast is able to blow sheets of paper across the room, and nearly force them to fall over, they too do not suffer any injuries. As pages of research flock around them and glide into alternate directions, they all set their gazes to what has been brought forth. Pure astonishment lights up their faces, as a glimmering white glow coats their bodies.

Towering over them, matching the tales almost identically, is the Divine Soul Gem. This mass of crystal and rock lays idle within the hanging ring placed to hold it. Stone and earth from the mining prison still cling to the bottom of the dazzling chunk of dense energy. Unlike other soul gems, this one has several massive clusters reaching outward, serving as individual stones conjoined and molded together. Another unique appearance that sets it apart is the heavenly white glow that pulsates just like a beating heart. While its entrance was wild and imposing, now it has settled and barely rivals the radiance of a swarm of fireflies.

Arius, with a blossoming feeling of accomplishment, begins to chuckle to himself. With little to no care for how his friends might take this reaction, his minor expression and show of joy grow into full-on laughter. This sense of cheer rubs off onto the other members of the group, with Rhonin being the first to react. He too begins to behave in the same manner, even he cannot hold back his joy. Kressmer, while his composure remains vigilant, he gives a smile and a light giggle when approaching them.

"We did it!" Arius shouts out, proud of their success.

"We did!" Rhonin replies just as joyous.

Unable to contain his blithe, Silver grabs the Breton's should and wraps his arms around him.

"Rhonin, you genius!" He compliments as he almost lifts the lightweight Rhonin off his feet.

"I-I couldn't have done it without you guys," Mathys responds with the air in his chest pressing out of him.

Silver releases his hold on him as Kressmer approaches them, but keeps a firm hand on the Breton's shoulder.

"Indeed, you both did very well," Midium claims kindly. "This was a risky step and a gamble that many would not dare to attempt."

"But it paid off," Arius comments, patting Midium's back when rushing to the stone. He dares not touch it knowing the risk of poorly handling it, but he does lean close to it boasting their triumph. "We now stand in the presence of divinity, and soon we will be holding it in the palm of our hands."

"So long as that power is used maturely, and with proper understanding," Kressmer adds wishfully thinking. "For now, I believe this calls for a celebration."

"I can agree to that," Rhonin says with fatigue behind his words and while stretching his body.

"Yeah, about that..." Arius pitches in one more detail that needs to be prioritized.

With his fellow mages' lending an open ear and with their eyes directing at him, he guides them to a minor issue. Gesturing with his hands while turning towards random locations, he sheds light upon the state of the laboratory. Dense chunks of metal are seared onto the stone floor from when they melted the chains, layers of paper that were scattered by the blast rests at their feet and all over the tile, and the furniture remains off to the side where it cannot be used accordingly.

"I don't quite think we can maximize our comfort and rest up until this place has been tidied up," he strongly suggests with clearer signals from his hands.

"You do make a valid point," Kressmer shares his perspective. "Rhonin..."

As his name is requested, the curious Breton swiftly turns to the Dunmer ready to hear him out. Kressmer, with his hands behind him, also turns himself to speak with him.

"Surely you can clean this place up, right?" He asks lowering himself to eye height with him.

"Huh?" The size of the tedious task alarms Rhonin.

He takes a step back out of discomfort for the massive job. The small spark of believing it was a joke is stomped out by the combined looks of Midium and Arius's gentle yet mischevious intent.

"You know, use your Alteration to scrape out the metal and scoop the papers," Arius adds, following along with Kressmer's playful game. "After all it was your idea to make this mess in the first place."

The absurdity of leaving the task of cleaning the entire lab to him startles him. Rhonin gasps, and feeling peer pressure from his group, he increases the gap between them.

"Alteration is not a cleaning tool," he defends worrying for his importance in the party.

Receiving the desired reaction from the youngest mage, Arius and Kressmer begin to chuckle with one another. Their expressions give way to the hilarious results, and ultimately reveal that they were only playing. While Rhonin is slightly shaken up by the joke, he still gets a minor kick from their efforts of teasing. He grasps the side of his chest that holds his heart using the opposite hand to calm himself. Once more, the trio embraces the aura of satisfaction and now humor of the moment. Sadly, this time of comfort will meet an unexpecting end.

Without any signs or any warning, an ear rumbling bang and deafening crackle stuns them. The power from the trembling noise that strikes as if right next to them, makes the youngest mages flinch and lower themselves. The sound making its way inside echoes throughout the chamber and haunts them for a handful of seconds. As the booming effect dims down over time, Rhonin and Arius gradually lift themselves back up. Once standing straight, the first thing they see creates a fast pounding from their hearts. Kressmer, who has never shown any emotional weakness, exposes an expression of grave concern. Not towards them, but by what he stares intently at in the outside world.

Without so much as a whisper, the two turn their sights to the same location. At first glance, the two come to understand the Dunmer's feeling of dread. Even with what's in view being unsettling, the group can't help but walk towards it. The tempting allure of what is transpiring fuels their curiosity, baiting and leading them outside to the heart of the unordinary event unfolding. Rhonin stands between Arius and Kressmer as they all lean close to the railing. Gazing outward beyond their tower in the hills, they all can't help but think back. As their day began, a question that many would call preposterous was raised, and now it has an answer.  
"We were right..." Rhonin recollects, disbelieving what he speculated to actually be coming true.

The skies that were once a soothing blue, with the warm sun rising in the heavens, has become blotted by black and dark grey clouds. The calm summer breeze that blew through the flourishing trees and tall grass has turned as harsh as ice on cold skin, and violently fast as it strips away the leaves on branches, and peddles from blooming flowers. Even far beyond the Imperial City, the clouds have stretched countless miles and continues to extend farther, with no sign of ending soon. As mentioned before, a fierce storm began not long after the Soul Gem was unearthed in Markarth. The stones awakening has unleashed an omen that shall draw chaos to it. As a series of thunderbolts and rumbles of thunder strike from the wrathful sky, the group comes to accept that they have brought a power far beyond their understanding to their home.


	10. The Light That Pierced the Heavens

Chapter 10: The Light That Pierced the Heavens

What initially started as a peaceful summer day of relaxing and celebrating, altered into a day of dread and grave bewilderment. While all the province of Cyrodiil is left to only rely on their imaginations, Rhonin's group is the only one that knows the truth. By summoning the grand power of the Divine Soul Gem to their tower, they have unleashed its unstable potential into the heart of the Empire itself. With it, strange events that many would connect to the Oblivion Crisis began to take root into the soils of the land.

For days on end, the Capital along with most of the surrounding areas become plagued with howling winds of fury, lightning, and thunder that makes eardrums pound in pain. Even the persistent fall of rain can be mistaken for arrows from how hard they seem to bombard the buildings and taverns. Due to this predicament, the Mages Guild was forced to cancel the festival. Worse of all, even despite the organization's efforts to uncover the source of this anomaly, whispers have already begun to paint them as the culprits. The minds of those who do not trust what they don't understand, always cling to old beliefs, even if they are bitter and nothing but stereotypes. With only two days at most before the Emporers return to the city, the pressure from the public and of the impending date begins to weigh on the hearts of all the arcane members.

Even Rhonin and his group are in distress from the anxious events following their actions. To avoid suspicion, the three take part in the studies and the spiking interest their guild has for the phenomenon. Thankfully, despite the source being but a few miles away, none have come close to uncovering their secret. At this time, the leaders of the guild are supposedly gathering with the Imperial Council to discuss the situation. The growing tension from what could transpire from such a gathering puts an uncomfortable strain on the members as they work.

For the last few weeks, members of the other mage factions have joined the ranks for the guild. Now standing as official members, the task of researching the imbalance of nature rests in their hands. At the main hall, where many come to study or dine in a delicious meal, the members' hassle and scram around one another urgently. Some have formed groups, and sit at different corners of the long tables. They unify their brain power to develop solutions for the events, and reasoning behind them. Off to the sidelines, resting with his arms crossed just outside the dining room is Arius.

His head hangs forward while uncontrollable anxiousness infests his heart and mind. The uneasy tension only grows as he keeps peeking his unsteady vision towards his frantic guild members. Due to their trance-like focus on their work, none have paid mind to him nor even taken notice to his presence. Once more when he turns his head to the groups of students, he does not catch sight of who approaches him from the side. Kressmer unintentionally steps toward him silently. He stands next to him patiently, letting his eyes wander in the hallway while waiting.

"By the nine, what have we done?" Arius questions in a hushed tone to himself.

"We took a chance," Kressmer answers just as discreetly.

As if accustomed continuously to the Dunmers light feet, Arius only gasps when looking to him. However, the moment he acknowledges who is beside him, an instant calmness alleviates him. Taking in soft breaths with his finger on his chest, he fully rotates his body to Midium.

"We did what many would consider madness," Kressmer adds on with irritation being held back in his voice. "Most importantly, we brought disorder in the form of a storm. Something I quite detest..."

"Say no more," Arius replies, agreeing to the dislike and turning himself back to the guild members. "With everyone in such a panic, it's as if the Emporer got assassinated."

"I doubt that will happen anytime soon..."

Kressmer as well pokes his head into the large dormitory. The room, along with all the scholars in it remain hectic as they scramble through their research. Arius continues to look away, due to the persistent efforts of his fellow mages to be nerve-racking. Even the Dunmer lowers his eyebrows finding this situation to be a nuisance.

"So, where's Rhonin?" Arius questions, pinching his chin with his fingers.

"He's back at the tower, studying the stone intensely," Kressmer replies when turning back to the Imperial. "While he won't admit it, he's just as deeply troubled as we are."

Midium begins to head his way down the hall, with a dull and casual look upon his face. Arius briefly watches the Dunmer take his leave, but pauses in place. The mental image of Rhonin, the youngest member of the group going through such emotional distress troubles him. Silver sighs out of empathy for his friend and follows after Kressmer. The intelligent, yet oblivious minds of the other guild members continue to work. Never knowing that what they were looking for was within their grasp.

Back at the groups keep of solitude, where the storm is at its calmest, Rhonin waits for his allies return. Within the top story of the building, the young mage for the last few days has been conducting thorough studies on the Divine Soul Stone. From its measurements of height, weight, width, and density, to even the timing of each pulse of energy within. He leaves no detail unchecked. As if glued to his palm is a journal, one that he glances at consistently to double check his precise notes of the gem.

While the large jewel appears to be tame as it produces a quiet hum, the storm outside speaks greater volumes of its might. Its serene song matches with the dim flashing that it creates. Even with its glow, Rhonin must light several candles to compensate and brighten the room sufficiently.

Despite the many days that it has lingered in the chamber, it has yet to do much of anything else. Its calming presence even affects the young Breton. The more he stares at it, the more he finds himself becoming hypnotized by its peaceful aura. Upon placing his hand onto the smooth surface of the gem, his vision becomes black from shutting his eyes.

With his awareness of his surrounding nullifying, Rhonin is unable to pay mind to what is occurring in front of him. As if reaching out to him, a faint mist of energy begins to flow from the stone. It silently envelops his hand and travels along his arm. Even with the stone's grasp on him and his mind, he does not sway from their connection. He and the gem are on the same wavelength, with him peering into the core of the godly jewel, and vice versa. The image of Mathys's desires becomes manifest. The fog swirls around his pointer finger, with such speed that it glows to form an illuminating ring.

It is the sound of doors slamming shut that returns Rhonin to the waking world. Witnessing the white Magicka coating his arm alarms him. He takes a step back while pulling his hand away. When directing his eyes to his arm, the mist vanishes along with the image around his finger. However, the exceptional vision does not bring him discomfort but instead makes him feel astonishment. For a moment, he became one with the crystal and held an essence of its power within his hand. In his head, it wasn't the temptation of power that gave him delight, but the internal connection that fuels his fascination.

"Would it kill you to socialize, Rhonin?" Arius shouts as he stomps in a hurry, up the metal staircase.

The haughty Imperial sprints to the Breton's side as he reaches the top floor of the building. Kressmer, with his humble posture, follows behind him.

"Well, when the entire city is in a panic, it's hard to mingle," Rhonin replies, brushing his hair to the side while walking toward the nearest table. "Speaking of, how are things back in the Capital?"

Arius and Kressmer are hesitant to answer him. They look to one another to see if either one had a proper response. With a soft cough to clear his throat, Arius steps forward.

"Not as good as we were hoping for," he informs the Breton when walking next to him. "While the guild is in a panic, they have yet to come close to uncovering anything. However, it's only a matter of time before their investigation leads them to us."

While Silver passes the news off to Rhonin, Kressmer stands in close quarters with the stone. With his hand lifted to touch the pointed end of one of the shards, he slides his palm down its smooth layer. He stares dispassionately with his eyelids resting nearly shut at the light within the heart of the rock. Unlike Rhonin, he doesn't receive the same intertwining bond. Instead, from under his palm, an intense force protrudes from the gem. His hand trembles as he briefly resists its barrier of energy. Once removing his hold on the stone, he takes a look at his steaming palm. His flesh has no considerable harm done to it, to which he shows little care for this reaction.

"Rhonin," Arius releases a breath of guilt when saying the name. "I know you want to make everything perfect, but we can't risk waiting any longer."

"What are you suggesting, Arius?" Kressmer, now joining their group chat, heads over to them.  
Pressing and sliding his hands together while pacing, Silver ponders a proper way to respond. Rhonin and Kressmer, enduring the passing time with ease, watch him as he intensely thinks.

"What I am saying, is we need to accelerate the process..." He states his opinion with his arms out and while tilting his head.

"Are you mad?" Kressmer questions in a soft but baffling tone.

"No, I believe I'm behaving quite logically," he instantly responds rushing up to the stern Dunmer. "With so many searching for answers about this storm, it's only a matter of time before they pinpoint the source!"

"So you wish to rush an already risky and delicate experiment?" After stating his rhetorical question, Midium places his right foot forward.

Back in the same situation as long ago, he lowers his gaze down onto the impatient Imperial. The two lock their eyes onto one another, for a split moment, they are quiet, with each one having a different expression. Kressmer remains showing little enthusiasm for the younger mage's brash thinking, without trying to be threatening. While Silver's body becomes tense, he leans his head backward as he peers into the lifeless red eyes of disappointment.

"A grunt with a pickaxe touched the stone and caused an earthquake," the Dunmer reminds the group. "Picture what would happen if we meddled with the stone, just as carelessly as the court wizard did?"

"Not only would we be risking our lives, but the lives of all the civilians in the Imperial city, and possibly all of Cyrodiil..." Rhonin predicts as the terrible thought looms in his head.

At the sound of his friend in distraught, Arius turns his head back to the Breton. Upon glimpsing the already troubled looking mage, a weight of regret drops on his chest. Silver lowers his head downward. While his voice is deaf to all ears, his actions speak of his apology for his forceful intent. A relieving sigh leaves his throat as he brings himself back up.

"What do we need to do to start this ritual?" He asks in a humble tone.

"When I was looking into the story about Shalidor and the axe Conquest, there was a picture of the enchanting circle he used," Rhonin informs as he attempts to cover his unsettled state. "Unfortunately, he designed it to where there was only one conduit, himself."

Grabbing a stick of chalk, the Breton lowers himself to the ground. Poking the pointiest end into the floor, he drives it to form a circle around himself. The light screeching echoes and stays trapped within the dome, but only agitates the Imperial. He rubs the inside of his ears while Mathys stands himself up.

"He stood in the center, and drew the power from the soul gem," he explains further into detail while directing his fingers to his sketch. "And directed it at the eye of the enchanting circle, where the axe was resting. I would need to replicate and add on to the design, or else we could accidentally create a bomb, or worse."

"Which I'd assume would take time?" Arius asks, but already believing he knows the answer.

Rhonin, with regret, gives a speechless nod in response to the unwanting question. At that moment, Arius can't help but shake his head and crosses his arms with distaste at the predicament. Even Mathys directs his pupils in a different direction to hide his dislike as well. While they mope in the hushed room, an intriguing thought comes to the Dunmer's mind. Kressmer, out of curiosity, breaks the stillness of sound in the chamber.

"You said that the conduit was standing above the axe?" He asks while stepping forward.

"Uh, yeah, Shalidor was," Rhonin clarifies, in confusion for why the detail is essential.

"And how did he guide all of the magical energy to the core of the ritual?" Kressmer moves forward another space.

"The sigils and markings work like channels and ley lines, to guide the Magicka to the center." Rhonin once more points down at his drawing.

"So instead of trying to remake Shalidor's pattern, just add two more focal points for mana to originate from."

"I get it!" At the revelation of the implications they bounce off one another, Arius interjects while snapping his fingers.

His impromptu act and his sudden movement towards the stone pull his comrades' attention. They watch as he opens his arms up to the Divine Soul Gem. The light of the rock makes his already bright grin shine even more.

"We'll turn the stone into the conduit!" Silver projects anticipatedly and in delight of the idea. "If we stand at the different spots around it, and channel our magic at it, the Gem would pour its enchanted energy directly into the ring!"

"If I'm adding to Shalidor's original concept, I can most definitely finish before the end of the night!" Rhonin adds on with just as much excitement as Silver.

"Now, let's not let our imaginations get the best of us," Kressmer comments as he holds his hand out to sooth their exhilaration. "We may have an idea of what measures to take, but we must accomplish those tasks as carefully as possible. Any missed details, and great ruin could doom us."

His tender yet skeptic approach alleviates the two younger mages'. At the sound and understanding of his perspective input, Arius and Rhonin stand firmly in place and nod in agreement. Their respectful stances, make the Dunmer smile proudly for their approval. He to bows his head to them in appreciation.

"Good," he comments in content. "So then, what is the next step, Rhonin?"

The many weeks and time spent around Arius and Kressmer have made his confidence flourish. Formerly inclosed and very ill when it came to socializing, now Mathys has earned his place and established his identity. As his friends look to him, he no longer pauses when contending to his shy demeanor and thoughts. This time, he turns to them full haughty with what lies in store for their plans.

"Gather all of the tomes with enchanting inscriptions that you can find, while I start marking the floor with the ritual circle," he kindly requests with a smile.

"Okay, which enchantments are we using?" Arius responds, leaning forward in anticipation.

"All of them!" Rhonin, moving and placing his hands onto the Imperial's shoulders, responds with the same excitement.

The eager Breton wanders off to collect his needed supplies, not realizing that his comment has left the others in a puzzle. Arius's eyes widen as he attempts to wrap his mind around the possibility. Even Kressmer's lips hang open by the absurdity, as well as lift a single eyebrow.

"All of them?' Arius questions as he turns his head back to the cheery Breton.

"Of course," Rhonin replies with his arms holding a series of scrolls, papers, and charcoal. "With the size of the stone, one could easily fit the inscriptions onto it! Plus, with our tactic to use crystal shards to etch the writing into it, we don't have to worry about the energies within leaking out."

Even with Mathys's explanation, the math of the idea does not stick with Silver. Briefly, he scratches his smooth, pointed chin as he ponders this plan.

"Is it even possible?" He asks with dubiousness in his voice.

"Given how Rhonin was able to make a ring with four different enchantments, I see why not," Kressmer adds with a grin.

"Well, I guess we've done crazier," Arius submits to the ludicrous plan. With his head shaking side to side, he chuckles gleefully at the thought. "Let's get to it then!"

As the three make a single nod in synch, they walk off into alternate directions of the chamber. At long last, the time has come to make their preparations. Weeks, almost months of research and hard work, have broadened their minds in preparation for this night. Either due to their endeavors of surpassing the old Mages Guilds defenses, the countless tomes that they have read through, or by the kind hand of fate, the three are now more than ready for the final phase, the last trial. Whatever happens tonight, the world will either revere them as Arcane Masters, or as a trio of madmen.

As instructed, Arius and Kressmer lift several stacks of novels and manuscripts containing the needed knowledge. They open and skim the old pages, and memorize each inscription that depicts different enchantments. Holding thin, crystal shards in their fingertips, the two begin to etch the symbols into the large rock. Thankfully, as they do so, the Divine Soul Stone does not have an adverse reaction. As they carve into its dense exterior, thin vapors seep out, only to vanish within a few seconds. While Kressmer's reach is not to hindered by this task due to his height, Arius frequently uses a stool more often than the Dunmer to boost himself.

As they work on the Soul Gem, Rhonin works just under and around them. Taking what notes he has, and what pages of sigils he looks through within Shalidor's Grimoire, he recreates and adds to the Arch Magus's old concept. All of the pages are laid out in front of him, with the journal of the Arch-Mage open beside him. Through his calculations and his quick thinking, he passes off between looking at the notes and then marking the floor with his pointy clump of charcoal. Initially, he crawls underneath the massive rock to draw the core of the circle right under it. By his design, he creates thick, swerving black lines that join at the middle point.

Several hours pass, time that none of them could keep track of due to their concentration. During such a lapse, the storm outside has yet to give sway and continues its remorseless fall. Most of the Imperial city has fallen to blackness, as the harsh rain prevents the light from torches and some firepits from remaining active. While most of the capitals civilians have called it a day and now reside in their homes, many guards stay at their posts, looking out to the damp and flooding land around them.

Now, even the Mage Tower, where Rhonin's group reside is shown no mercy by the harsh rainfall. As if sensing what is about to commence, the stone summons the fury of the wrath torrent right over their heads. Using tables and sacks of flour, Rhonin and the others fortify a blockade to prevent any water from coming in. Thankfully, they were also able to block the skylight with planks of wood and more duffle bags of powder. Sadly, this won't hold for long. Time is of the essence, and the group knows this, but can't help but basque in what they have accomplished.

Every inch of every shard that forms the Divine Soul Stone bears the markings of every enchanting symbol and inscription. No longer does the gem illuminate white, but every color to represent every effect that the mages carved into it. Despite the grand alteration of its energy, the beautiful hum does not fade and still fills the chamber. Beneath it, is the work of art that Rhonin crafted to use as an extended enchanting circle. The most notable details are a series of rings that hold each symbol for a different school of magic.

The spiral image of Illusion, the angelic bird of Restoration, the burning hand of Destruction, the ever-changing tree of Alteration, the haunting crest of Conjuration, and the prismatic blade of Enchanting all intertwine and converge into the center. Connecting them and guiding them with black lines and a triangle at the heart of the ritual, is the all-seeing eye of Mysticism.

"My hands hurt from all of that carving," Arius comments with his fingers shaking.

"I think all of ours are," Rhonin adds on, agreeing while brushing his long hair to the side. "But It's all paid off as far as I can tell."

"I've got to say, that Shalidor was quite the genius."

Without any previous consent, Arius takes the Arch Magus's Grimoire from the Bretons belt strap. However, as he lifts the book to his eyes, the magic placed upon it activates. In the palm of his hand, Cyan blue energy reshapes the tome. The red leather cover and all of its encrusted jewels vanish and revert into the torn and color devoid cookbook.

"What the-" Silver shakes his head at the startling spell's effect. "How to make a sweet roll?"

"It would seem that Shalidor is picky with who he chooses to read his book," Kressmer comments after having a hushed chuckle. "Perhaps you have yet to prove yourself."

Midium with a smooth swing of his hand swipes the tome out of the Imperial's fingers. With the same sleight of fluid movement, he returns it to Rhonin's belts slot.

"I can't just take a peek?" Arius questions with his hands upward in the air. "You're an illusionist after all. Surely you can remove the spell, right?"

"Of course, but I consider it blasphemous to undo a dead man's work, as well as discredit his judgment," Kressmer explains pinching two of his fingers together as he pokes fun at Silvers eagerness.

"Are you two done?" Rhonin questions, with his fingers over his lips to prevent himself from laughing. "If so, I believe there is only one thing left to do."

"Indeed," Arius replies with his hands resting on his waist.  
Without any second thoughts, the Imperial turns his back to the group while heading to one of the corners of the room. Kressmer and Rhonin watch in patience for the grand reveal. As he walks, the sky screaming storm reminds them of its presence. Thunder and lightning boom in their ears as it strikes just beyond the tower. This disturbance troubles Rhonin, making him place his hood over his head as he concerningly looks to the sky through the thick glass. Even though the Dunmer does find the occurrence outside to be troubling, he pays none of his full focus to it. Instead, he remains vigilant and with his eyes on the Imperial.

Atop one of the few tabletops, is a neatly folded, thick, tan cloth. The same fabric a weapon and armor smith would wear as an apron. Arius approaches it, for a moment he looms over it as his mind rambles over what lies within.

"After I gave the blacksmith all of our failed rings, he did me a kind favor," Silver informs them. With his fingers shaking, he slips them beneath the folded rag. "He melted them all down and using the sturdiest of the material, created as he put "a bond that could never break."

With the fabric resting in his palms, Arius turns back to the others. He takes careful steps to ensure that what he holds does not slip off his hands. His head is tilted forward when approaching the others out of precaution.

"But, unlike the others, this one is different in another way," Silver adds on right as he stands before the group.

Using the tips of his fingers for careful movements, he steadily unfolds the cloth. As he undoes each corner, a solid shape in the middle becomes more transparent. Due to his ominous implications, Kressmer and Rhonin loom close and over the rag. As a furious bolt of lightning blasts through the air above the tower, Arius reveals the mysterious item. Now staring down at the object, the Dunmer and Breton can now relate with the Imperial's uneasy feeling.

With the cloth covering Arius's hand, what rests neatly on it is a ring of ebony-steel. Unlike the rest of the other failed copies, with a silver metal inside, this circlet is the embodiment of the color black. Even as the flashes from the storm howl above, the lights do not reflect off the solid ring. Such unnatural darkness and the furious twilight haunting them causes an unsettling feeling in Rhonin's heart. A puff of cold air blows from his lips, while Mathys stars at the jewelry.

"I see what you mean," Rhonin speaks with little breath. "Even with no effects on it, it's almost haunting to look at."

Like plucking a loose hair, Kressmer snatches the ring from the cloth. He juggles it around his fingers as he takes great interest in every grim detail on its smooth exterior.

"Let us hope that the power bestowed upon it will change that internal negativity," he speaks with optimism. "As well as be thankful that it can endure more than the others."

In one swift motion, he clenches his fingers around the ebony band. With no more interest in the item and with his hand open, he presents it to the Breton.

"Would you care to do the honors?" He asks Rhonin with a discreet smile on his face.

Even as the elder mage attempts to pass him a hint of confidence, Rhonin's heart cannot rest so easily. His pupils shake as he gazes at the black circlet. Not only is it the ring that forces this mood on him, but also by what they ask of him. To take the lead and guide them through the process of creating the ring. With a breath of fresh chilling air to calm him, he tips his head down accepting the proposition. He reaches to the Dunmers hand, sure of his bravery to add the final piece of this experimental puzzle, he slides his fingers around the item.

"You guys have been there from the beginning," he says as grateful as one can be. As his words go on, an emotionally vulnerable side surfaces. "I can't thank you both enough... I may have started with a rough draft, but with your insight and help, now we can finish this together."

"Indeed," Arius replies, placing his hand on the Breton's shoulder to soothe his tearful appearance. "We're just as honored to be here with you, as you are with us!"

"The truth couldn't be more accurate," Kressmer adds. With one arm to his waist and the other on his back, he gives a gracious bow. "I thank you, Rhonin Mathys, for granting this old man such an experience."

The Breton is incapable of fighting the urge to smile at their encouraging words. Brightly grinning, he softly nods to give his thanks in return. He too holds the ring in his tight grasp. Both his mind and heart are hardened with zeal to accomplish his long-awaited goal. He marches forward to the stone, not even batting an eye at the booming thunder around him. Within arms reach of the crystal, he lowers himself to move beneath it. There, the symbol of Mysticism, where the core of the ritual rests. Within its black pupil, he tenderly places the ring onto it.

"Okay," he speaks as he pushes himself back onto his feet. "Now, it's time we get into positions!"

Out of worry for the storm potentially growing worse, he dashes toward the others.

"Arius, I need you to stand on the Conjuration sigil on the other side of the stone," Rhonin urgently informs while pointing in the needed direction.

"Consider it done!" Silver assures as he sprints to the location.

"And I'll take it I need to stand on the Illusion crest?" Kressmer questions, already thinking a step ahead.

"Correct!" The Breton answers cheerfully at the clever Dunmer.

The two split off and head in opposite directions to their designated spots. Rhonin places his feet down onto the Alteration symbol, but with all three members in the enchanting circle, a glimmering event occurs. Each of the sigils that represent the schools of magic glow their respected shades under them. Along with these array of colors, includes a dim white light that borders the edges of the black lines. This immense glow touches every crevis and cranny of the chamber. Thankfully, the tinted glass making up the shell of the room shrouds this display.

As if anticipating this bright result, they take little care for the vibrant hues around them. Their eyes are all set on the Divine Soul Gem, and what their plans are with it.

"Once we concentrate all of our Magicka at the stone, the markings and symbols will serve as a current," Rhonin explains while gesturing the details. "Like a stream, all of the energy in this room will converge into the center, where the ring is."

"And that's why we're in these specific spots," Arius comes to realize. "Because of our skills in these particular elements."

"Precisely! Also to help fuel the spell, so that none of the energy from the stone bleeds out and wastes away."

"We must remain firmly planted where we are until the ritual is complete," Kressmer includes by his deduction of the magic. "So no matter what happens, hold your ground!"

Even as they have full clarity on the rules in place, a spark of hesitance stands with them. The same thought comes to all of their minds. After everything they have been through, they have finally attained their desired places. A hint of disbelief reaches to their souls. With each one glancing at the other, they all basque in a delightful grin.

"Whenever you guys are ready," Rhonin tells them, with a sigh of content following after.

His words of consent don't immediately sway them. He too remains shy of action and waits for someone else to make the first move. Kressmer, while more than willing to take the lead, stands idle. Out of showmanship, he quietly stays in place along with Mathys. Unlike the others, Arius can hardly contain his eager desire to accomplish this task. With a hard clap of his hands, the Magicka within him becomes manifest.

Golden and Violet energy forms on his hands, and seep in between his fingers. His arms tremble as he pulls the opposing powers from one another. Kressmer and Rhonin smile at their prediction coming true. Following just behind, the two of them mimic his actions. Magicka in the form of a mist and an angry fire take shape in each of the Dunmer's hands. For Mathys, he calls upon conjoining powers of dark yellow and green shades in his right grasp. With the other, a pink and white fluctuating flame.

With their arms spread out, Rhonin, Kressmer, and Arius take one last look at one another. Nodding to queue that they are ready, they synchronize in action. Thrusting their arms forward, the might of their Magicka blasts into three beams of power. Upon contact with the Divine Soul Stone, the radiance of the rock intensifies. In its wrathful state, the room rumbles as its power becomes free. The chains and shackles that hold the crystal rattle and ring in their ears. Furiously lashing outward, the unsaturated force within blows outward. However, the precautions of the spell circle contain what does fly out.

What was a cloud of energy, slowly forms into a vortex. The whirlwind becomes thinner and thinner with each second. From the efforts of the mages' and their spell incantation, they keep it at bay. Now the tornado of power becomes compressed to a layer just over the crystal. As they had intended, the vitality of the stone descends and gently merges with the ring. The band is the only thing in the chamber that does not shake from the effectual spell.

Unbeknownst to them, a far more dire event was taking place. As the ritual proceeds, the storm that plagues the land recedes. The rapid calming of the weather alerts the attention of the Imperial city. Torches ignite all around the capital, and even the civilians are waking to investigate. The streets fill with people as fast as they swelled with water. Even members of the mages guild make their way outside from the alarming occurrence. However, what the people high above see, concerns them just as terribly.

Off in the mountain range where the Mage Tower rests, the eye of the storm has narrowed its assault. The black raging clouds spiral overhead at the call of the stone. Lightning and harsh rain bombard the sanctum. The flashes of light present the tower as clear as day. In the eyes of all who witness this abnormal pattern, now suspect where the source originates. Off to the side, Mirabelle, Enthir, and the other members of the guild watch in awe. With decisive reasoning, they all suspect who is at fault.

Back in the tower, the Divine Soul Stone relentlessly fights back. Harsh winds form in the chamber and gust in all directions. The unending quakes have yet to cease as the spell continues. Even so, the mages' do not yield. Their feet have yet to be set off balance by the gems actions. Nor does their supply of Magicka give out. While Arius and Rhonin clench their teeth from the difficulty of the ritual, Kressmer only frowns sternly.

Suddenly, a flash of red peers in Rhonin's peripheral vision. Looking down, he notices an unintended effect.

"Something's wrong," he comments in a pessimistic tone.

It's not long after that both Kressmer and Arius discover the same sight. Before their eyes, spurts of red energy burst from the ring. While it stays within the eye of the Mysticism symbol, the band uncontrollably flips and vibrates.

"What's going on?" Arius asks fearfully out loud.

"It doesn't matter!" Kressmer shouts in a commanding aspect. "We can't stop now, or else we'll lose our only chance at making the ring!"

The unforeseeable outburst from the Dunmer startles the younger mages. While this behavior is unusual to them, this doesn't make his statement any less accurate. After taking a glimpse at one another, Silver and Mathys come to agree with this choice. Without letting anything else distract them, the three of them press on. Even with the stone growing more aggressive towards them, they keep their channeling Magicka going. Unfortunately, their efforts would prove futile in the end.

Due to the chains and shackles being in physical contact with the crystal and its raw energy, they slowly begin to break down. The metal rapidly rusts and cracks by the unrelenting force. In time, the Magicka from the gem consumes the links and plates holding it at bay. In the blink of an eye, the metal bonds become powder. The flash and burst of debris blind the three. With their arms over their faces, the mages' are forced to cancel their spells.

However, another surprising act happens. The Divine Soul Stone levitates in place. Without the need of magical force, the gem pours its power into the ring. As it does, the once beautiful diamond gradually blackens. It's physical form withers and cracks just as the chains were. The mages' unable to prevent what is unfolding due to exhaustion, stare questioningly. The last thing they see is the stone fade into dust.

Before any of them can react, a surge of yellow and white light overcomes them. Even as the group blocks themselves once more, this action would do them no good. This explosion of raw Magicka shatters through the dome. All the people of Cyrodiil watch as a beam of energy launches into the sky. Many are mesmerized by it, while more are terrified. Overall, everyone's frozen in place as they helplessly observe. What they did not know at the time, was that they weren't the only ones to witness this. After this night, all of Tamriel would speak of the light that pierced the heavens.


	11. The Ring is Born

Chapter 11: The Ring is Born

None could foresee what would transpire this night. With jaws hanging open, and eyes wide, they all stare into the now cloudless night sky. Towering over them all and even the highest reach of the city is a beam of divine light. Ripples of pure Magicka spread across the star littered atmosphere. Vanishing and leaving no trace behind is the thundering clouds, along with the relentless rain. Due to the magnitude of this phenomenon, none even bat an eye to the soothing disappearance of the harsh weather.

Such a high glimmering display presents itself not just to the people of Cyrodiil, but to the residents of the neighboring continents and lands. A beacon of power has shown itself to even the outer realms. The golden tower of energy disperses as swiftly as it came. Even with its sudden end, the Empire now knows the source of the spell.

The inside of the sanctum that Rhonin and the others stood is now in ruins. The once thick shell of glass that concealed the dome has shattered. The top of the dwarven plates has melted away by the immense heat of the blast. Broken chairs, shelves, and other furniture have scattered across the edges of the top floor. Some are blown off the building entirely and now surround the complex. What remains of the metal bonds and the ritual is swept away.

Miraculously, the group by the luck of the gods survived the devastating blast. Rhonin arises from a stack of thin planks of wood. He violently coughs while resting on all fours. As he does so his blue cloak emits a faded glow to serve as protection for him. With a wobble of his head, he spots this minor detail. He smiles and snuggles his fingers onto the edges of it.

"Thank you, Gura," he says referring to the previous owner of the cloak.

As the transparent aura disperses, a sudden and distressing thought comes to mind. Where were the others?

"Kressmer, Arius!" Rhonin calls out.

Off to the edge of the platform resting on a pile of broken furniture is Kressmer. When pushing himself up to sit with his legs crossed, he groans from the inflicted aches. Despite the dark surroundings Rhonin can spot the shadowy figure of the Dunmer. Not risking any wasted time, the Breton launches himself onto his feet and sprints toward him.

"Kressmer, are you alright?" He asks dropping to his knees to help.

With every stretch he makes and every limb he rubs, constant popping and cracking noises creak out of Kressmer's joints and sockets. His growls continue while refreshing his body's condition.

"I'll be alright," he replies without so much as a burn or scratch on him. "What about Arius?"

Arius, laying at the opposite side of the room, raises his trembling arm.

"Over here," he projects with a scratchy voice.

Rhonin and Kressmer turn themselves to Silver's location. With the aid of the youngest mage, the Dunmer is brought back onto his feet with the two rushing over to the injured Imperial right after. Kneeling at each side of Arius, they boost him into a sitting position.

"Arius, are you okay?" Rhonin questions.

The moment he sits straight, an excruciating pain pounds in Silver's shoulder. With his teeth clamping down and with a growl of discomfort, he latches his left hand onto it.

"Gods!" He spouts in agitation. "It feels like a giant tried to rip my arm off!"

Allowing his friend to lean on him, Kressmer hovers his hand over the injured area. As yellow fluid-like energy spills onto the Imperial's shoulder, Midium directs his sights onto the Breton.

"Rhonin," he speaks with. "I'll tend to Arius. You take a look around, see if any of our documents and research survived."

Rhonin with a single nod rises to his feet. As requested of him, he heads in the opposite direction of the group. As he makes his way through the remains of the chamber, his eyes glance at every destroyed region of the room. While a thick cloud of dirt hinders his vision, the closest and larger objects stand out. Sorrow fills his heart as he examines the area. With every look, his optimism diminishes. What were weeks of notes and research materials, are nothing but shriveled books and pages of ash. With every volume he lifts, he only finds charcoal and dust within the leather bindings.

Every book he discards is more damaged than the last. It becomes rapidly apparent to Rhonin that their work's ruined. The chains and shackles that held the crystal have vanished, along with the ritual circle. After taking one more step through the smoke, his foot collides with a sturdy object. The dust hovering around his feet creates a blanket too thick to see clearly. Lowering himself, Rhonin reaches his hand into the cloud. Grasping the object and lifting it to view is Shalidor's Grimoire. Despite what has occurred, the encrusted jewels, the aged paper, and the smooth leather cover are safely intact. As it rests in his hands, a glimmer of blue Magicka flashes off it.

"Did you find anything?" Kressmer questions with Arius's arm over his shoulder.

As they stand, Rhonin turns to them with the book held high. He is silent, satisfied with the journal's survival, but depressed by the destruction that doomed their research.

"That dead man continues to surprise me," Arius mutters shaking his head.

"So, there's nothing left?" Kressmer asks.

Rhonin turns his head side to side while looking downward. He leaves his face leaning forward as he places the tome onto his belt. As he does so, the disguise of the novel covers it. With a sigh to fill the silence of the lab, sorrow and regret begin to fill his mind.

"I'm sorry," he tells them with his hand shaking. "I'm sorry I dragged you guys into this."

After Arius lifts his arm off the Dunmer, the two approach the upset Rhonin. However, a most unusual and near undetectable occurrence stops Silver in place. The sound of a gentle breeze hits his ears, but with enough wonder behind it to freeze him in place.

"Rhonin, this is not your fault," Kressmer informs grabbing the young mage's shoulders.

"I shouldn't have brought you two into this!" Rhonin Mathys spouts ignoring the Dunmer's comment.

"It was our free choice to join you in this goal."

"And look where it got you!"

This sudden outburst, along with Rhonin backing away actual catches the Kressmer Midium off guard. He holds his hands out to signal his desire for the young mage to calm down. Arius does not take notice of this emotional eruption. His mind still locks onto the out of place sound that haunts him. After a few seconds, this breeze becomes as mistakable as a whisper.

"Look at what has happened!" Rhonin comments. "I could have gotten you two killed, Kressmer!"

As the two discuss the scale of the issue, the persistent and eerie presence remains close to the Imperial. He ponders hard on what is reaching out to him. Even though the sound stands out like a shriek in a quiet room, the hum seems to come from all directions. After glancing at every different corner of the room, a minuscule sight stands out. His pupils thin as he gazes at the bizarre event.

"I put our lives at risk!" Rhonin goes on. "Destroyed our fortress and all of our research, and now we have no stone or ring to show for it!"

As he finishes his statement, Rhonin spots the uncertainty in Arius's expression. Kressmer curiously does the same after lowering his hands and noticing Mathys' curiosity. As they look to him, the disordered in Arius's mind spreads to them.

"Arius?" Rhonin questions, leaning forward.

"I think... That you guys may- want to reconsider that," Arius replies in a daze.

With an unnaturally steady hand, he lifts his arm to the same level as his eye. His breathing is patchy and chilled when pointing ahead of him. At that moment, the same gentle blow of wind extends to the rest of the party. A feeling of denial strikes Rhonin and Kressmer over if the noise is real. They too follow the same actions that Arius had done before. However, as they glance into each other's eyes, the realization becomes evident. Then they finally face what is hypnotizing the Imperial. With their focus narrowing onto the same location, they all bare the same expression of awe and wonder.

At the heart of the chamber, a glow as subtle as a candle rests. The fog shields the source of this light but also makes its appearance stand out in the shadow-filled room. Like a moth to a flame, Rhonin carefully and steadily approaches. The others stay behind, Arius unable to build the courage to move closer, and Kressmer concerning over the possible risk of the unknown. As the Breton continues the breezing sound grows.

The light brightens, and even the world around it becomes affected. Without any warning, a soft surge of wind releases from the white beacon. The dust clears, and the group blocks their eyes from the burst of dirt heavy wind. Within seconds, the cloud around them fades and sweeps away. The cracks within the floor are now visible to the naked eye, and the burn from the explosion is present for them to see. What lies at the center answers their questions. What created the whisper-like sounds, to the shine in the chamber, the wind, and what consumed the tower of light reveals itself. What they had all been hearing and seeing, is the ring calling to its makers.

No longer was their goal just a dream. What the mages' all desired is now a reality. Their calculations, their experiments, and all their preparations have all lead to this. Resting before them, in all its enchanted glory just as they imagined, is the Ebony Ring. The tremendous Magical energy within bleeds from it like a thin mist that coats the floor. With tendrils of light that slowly spiral and reach upward. Unlike before, a series of Daedric symbols burn and glow on the outside of the ring.

"Is that-" Arius baffled by what he's witnessing comments. "It worked?"

Rhonin stands just above it with his pupil reflecting the white glow from the ring. The mesmerizing artifact leaves the young Breton's mouth hanging open. Without swaying or weakening, the hushed whispering persists. The Daedric relic desires more than just to be noticed. No longer putting his safety first, Rhonin crouches down to the object. With tender care, he lifts the ring with the tips of his pointer, middle finger, and thumb. As he stands, with his eyes drawn to its enchanting aura, the energy seeps onto his hand.

"It worked!" Arius preaches with his arms raising high.

"Now, let's not be hasty," Kressmer comments stepping next to the excited Imperial. "While I can feel the power of the stone, we don't know for certain if the enchantments are working properly."

"So you want me to be the test dummy?" Rhonin asks with a quick chuckle right after.

The room fills with their laughter as they stand closer together. While Kressmer tries his best to be collective, even he can't help but feel joyous for their possible success. Already believing they prevailed, Arius holds nothing back as he expresses his haughty bliss. Like the Dunmer, Rhonin is reasonably tame with how he displays his delight.

"I'd say you deserve to be the first to wear it," Kressmer states.

"Agreed," Arius comments with a nod. "Do us the honor."

Rhonin as well gives a quick bow with his head and a smile on his face. Looking down, he passes the ring onto the other hand. At first, a brief hesitance holds him in place. The heart racing noises and fog like energy still feel out of place. His eyes concentrate on both the artifact and his right pointer finger. With a deep breath to cast out his anxiousness, he guides the ring within his fingertips. Slowly, and as steady as his hand can, he slides his finger into it.

Without warning, a flash of white light surges from the ring. For a moment the group shields their eyes from the bright display. Right as the radiance dims, the energy within the accessory begins to envelop Rhonin's hand and arm. Initially, this effect alarms him. He grasps his trembling forearm while the power of the ring pulsates through his limb. However, before his friends can react and come to his aid, the pale Magicka dissipates.

"What in Oblivion just happened?" Arius questions while leaning forward.

"Are you alright Rhonin?" Kressmer asks, doing the same.

"I-" the sensation in Rhonin's body overflows his mind with multiple answers. "I feel, incredible..."

The shocking understanding of what he's feeling excites him. As they watch, from his arms to his chest, and even face, Rhonin grasps and touches nearly every part of his body.

"The sore and aches from the explosion are gone," he informs them. "The ring did more than just heal me, its made me healthier than I've ever been!"

"What about the enchantments?" Kressmer requests also taking a look at Rhonin's condition. "Can you feel them?"

"No..." Rhonin shakes his head as conflicting emotions battle within his heart and head. "All I can feel is the raw power, but I can sense it lingering as if waiting for me to utilize it."

Arius, full of anticipation leaps at Rhonin, wrapping his arm around his neck and grabbing the Bretons wrist to look at the ring. While the two are cheerful of their success, something catches Kressmer's ear. A noise too soft for most to hear lures the Dunmer to the edge of the chamber. As he walks, the younger mages' continue to study the Ebony Ring.

"Amazing," Arius comments with his eyes wide open. "I'm a little confused over the markings, but I suppose they add a little flavor to its design."

"I guess..." Rhonin responds with a slightly different perspective.

As Arius releases his hold on the Breton's wrist, the ring's concerning hum returns. The spiritual, pale energy once more bleeds from it. Again, Rhonin can't help but be drawn in by this mystic display. Unable to resist his curious nature, he brings the ring closer to his face. What he and the others do not realize is what affects he is causing from this minor action.

What few objects, loose rubble, and debris remain in the chamber begins to react. The charred novels, the broken pieces of furniture and small pebbles from the floor start to shake and rise into the air. This extraordinary event goes unnoticed to the group, with each one concentrating on separate elements. Kressmer near the edge pokes his long-haired head from behind a wall to look outside.

At the same time, two of the rings features steal the complete focus of Rhonin and Arius. With Mathys gazing intently at the mysterious glow that forms around his hand. As for Silver, he cannot avert his eyes from the multicolored sigils that scar the ring.

"Arius?" Kressmer suddenly calls out.

The Dumers unintentional interference stops that powers of the ring. As the two shake away their haze, the energy that stretched from the ring ends. The objects and rubble drop to the floor, initially surprising them. After a quick gasp from the two, they glance around the room due to the crashing sound. For Kressmer, he calmly turns himself towards their location.

"Arius, were you expecting guests?" He asks with his arms behind him.

"Uh, no, why?" Arius questions.

"Well, then you might want to know that there are well over fifty Imperial soldiers on your front yard."

"What?" Arius asks rushing toward the porch. Like Kressmer, he discreetly glances over the ledge behind a wall as to not be spotted.

As described, a small army under the command of the Tamriel Empire has made their stand just beyond the tower. Several of them are on steel plated horses and carry red and gold banners, with the dragon symbol to represent the mighty kingdom. The majority are foot soldiers armed with both leather and glimmering metal armor. Oddly enough, a handful of Thalmor agents with cowls and robes on, stand with the militia. By their gestures, they appear to be the ones ordering and organizing the troops.

"My gods you weren't kidding," Arius in a startling panic runs with haste back to the center of the chamber. "There is an actual Imperial army at my front door."

"Don't tell me it's because-?" Rhonin begins to ask with his internal guilt already returning.

"It doesn't matter why they are here," Kressmer states to relieve the Breton. "What matters is how we deal with the situation. For now, we need to hide the Ebony Ring."

At first, the younger mages' feel compelled to do the opposite, due to their original intentions being to present the ring to the Empire. However, given the severity of the situation and the potential risk of confessing to being the cause of the strange anomalies, may put them in danger. After a hasty glance at one another, Rhonin follows Kressmers request. With time being of the essence, Rhonin slips the ring off his fingers. Its silence and absence of light fade the moment he places it within the pocket on his vest.

"Okay, just stay behind me while I do the talking," Arius tells them as he rushes to the staircase.

While his friends try to impede on his brash idea, all they can do is sprint behind. After a few seconds, as arrogant as can be, Silver swings the wooden doors of his tower open. Kressmer and Rhonin cautiously follow, even giving a gap in space between them and the ego-driven Imperial. Now the three stand in front of the Imperial forces.

"Greetings soldiers of the lustrous Imperial Empire!" Arius preaches with his arms held high.

"What is he doing?" Rhonin asks in a whisper.

Kressmer at this reckless moment cannot wrap his wise mind around what is transpiring. Instead, all he can do is sigh when burying his face into his palm.

"I'm Arius Silver, of the Silver clan!" The Imperial introduces. "As much as I enjoy the company of my people, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to vacate my property!"

His boastful words and prideful attitude will do him no good here. Without so much as a second to respond, every soldier draws their smooth and razor-sharp blades in synch. The ringing from pulling the swords from their sheaths stabs into the three mages ears. This single act alone breaks Arius's confidence and freezes him in fear. Rhonin as well finds the imposing actions of the militia to be terrifying. Within a few seconds, he breaks into a shivering sweat. Kressmer frowns in dislike towards the army that has backed him into a wall.

"And I'm afraid that we'll have to ask you to come with us," one of the Thalmor agents' replies. "Dead or alive, the choice is yours..."

The severity of the threat asserts that they must handle this situation with caution and submission. No longer are the mages' able to hide the truth, and now must stand in the light of their actions. This moment of vulnerability hits Arius with a disturbing revelation. He now knows for sure, that his big name won't save him this time. He too must answer for his reckless antics.

"Rhonin," Kressmer whispers leaning to the Breton. "I would suggest that now is the best time to hold your hands up."

The moment he states his suggestion, Rhonin stretches his arms up to the sky. Still, in a panic, the Breton keeps his arms as high as possible when looking in shock at the soldiers. Kressmer casually lifts his hands to the same height as his head. As usual, he shows little enthusiasm for the danger and possible outcome of tonight. Arius, without knowing of their actions also raises his arms. The three watch helplessly, as the Thalmor agents march toward them with small rope ties.

On a night both chaotic and harmonious, the names of the mages' would spread like a plague. It would not be long before every denizen of Cyrodiil and even beyond would know of their actions. Even forces beyond the realm will catch wind of the mortal whispers. Still, what will come soon after will have the entirety of Tamriel speaking in awe and disbelief. Their voices will echo and extend to every corner of the continent. Unknown to their feeble mind, is that their words will draw the forces of shadow, malice, and chaos to their world.


	12. The Power of a Whisper

Chapter 12: The Power of a Whisper

How long have Rhonin's group been in that dungeon, beneath the city, left in the shadow of the Empires underground? The absence of day and night makes it uncertain. The guards who come to bring them scraps and water won't answer their questions, and there are no other prisoners this deep who can speak with them. Whatever intentions the Empire has with them is already concerning the three. To cause them hysteria, to break their spirits, who knows? Regardless, the next time they see the outside world, they'll know misfortune will follow shortly after.

Kressmer sits on one of the benches within their cell. His eyes shut and his breathing unhearable as he meditates on the issue at hand. Rhonin rests in the corner of the room, his guilt, and self-pity poke at the back of his mind. He too cannot bring himself to speak with the thought that he might make the situation worse. Arius Silver, despite the dire predicament, has yet to let his determination sway. With the bottom part of his clenched fist, he bangs on the prison bars.

"This is not acceptable!" He shouts with his voice reverberating throughout the underground complex. "You can't keep us down here forever!"

"Arius," Kressmer gently calls out the Imperial's name.

"I'm Arius Silver!" He ignores the Dunmer Midium while angrily yanking and pushing on the bars. "My family will be furious when they find out I'm here!"

"It's no use, Arius," Kressmer's crimson eyes open as he turns his head to Silver. "Your name will do you no good here."

Furious over the mistreatment of the Empire, Arius kicks the cell door. The sudden bang and ringing of metal make Rhonin flinch. Kressmer stares tiresomely at the impatient Imperial's attitude.

"And what do you expect us to do?" Arius asks turning back to the others. "Sit here in the dark and rot!"

"It's better than wasting your energy shouting and making pointless noise," Kressmer replies returning to his meditation.

While the snarky comeback throws him off, Silver finds the statement to be no less truthful. He lowers his head and lets out a heated breath. The chilling touch of the cell bars helps to calm him as he leans his back against them. Once more, the group sits in the dark, each one unsure of what can and should be said. While they all express different perspectives on their predicament, they have at this time submitted to their fate within the prison. Even the possibility of never seeing the light of day comes to mind.

None of their methods are available due to the specific cage that holds them. In the center of the floor is a faint blue sigil carved into it. So long as it was there, the trio's Magicka was drained continuously to prevent any incantations. Even minor markings etched into the bars are warded with magic to secure them. The only thing not able to be affected by this spell work is the Ebony Ring.

With no prying eyes upon it, the metal circle hums and glows within Rhonin's pocket. Rhonin cannot help but pay notice to the call of the ring. Steadily he slips his fingers into his pocket and holds it in his palm. This time, he does not look at all fascinated by his creation. Instead what he feels, is dread and regret. If it weren't for this ring, they would not be in this dirty old cage.

This guilt resonates to the point that Kressmer in someway can sense it. He ends his internal reflection to look at the self-pitying Breton.

"Everything will turn out fine, Rhonin," he assures hanging over his bench.

The only response given back is a stressful exhale. While eager to keep trying, Kressmer also does not wish to harass his friend. He too cannot help but express a similar shame. With enough time passing, Arius is now clear of mind. Softly pushing himself from the wall, he faces Rhonin as well.

"I'm surprised they didn't find the ring on you," Arius comments mildly impressed.

"They didn't look very thoroughly," Kressmer clarifies. "The Imperial's even let him keep the journal, not seeing the harm in a "cookbook."

Despite the conversation centering around him, Rhonin still can't build the courage to speak. He continues studying the ring and its quality. Despite remembering nearly everything about his notes, he still can't understand what went wrong. Where did these daedric marks originate, why did that explosion occur, and why weren't the intended enchantments working? So many questions, yet nothing to go off of for a single answer. Even when holding such a grand power within his grasp, the Breton still cannot fathom what's in his hand.

Before Kressmer and Arius can attempt to lift his spirit, a familiar noise steals their focus. Even Rhonin lifts his head while hurryingly shoving the ring back into his pocket. The sound of a metal door that leads outside slams open. Right as the reflecting sound fades, what can only be footsteps appear right after. In the groups shared thinking, they come to assume that it's time to eat. However, the legionnaires that approach have other idea's in mind.

Two soldiers, clad in high-quality steel, step to the door of the mages' cage. One stands off to the side, with his hand already clenching the hilt of his sword. The other with a single key on a thin metal band starts unlocking the door.

"What's going on?" Arius asks taking a step away from the bars.

"You're trial," the soldier responds when opening the door. "There is a huge list of royals and scholars who want to know what you were up to."

Rhonin's eyes open wide with slight excitement to finally leaving the poorly made cell. Kressmer as well stands but remains calm yet solemn towards this information. Arius shakes his head in disgust towards going to court.

"This is absurd! We didn't do anything!" He states trying to play innocent.

"I'd appreciate your compliance, don't make my job any harder," the soldier replies, holding a set of iron cuffs.

These shackles also possess the same carvings as the prison bars. The sight of them makes Silver give up on his usual antics of persuasion. With a sigh, he holds out his arms to appease the guard. Out of courtesy, Rhonin and Kressmer approach doing the same. As each of them gets fitted with these cuffs, the Imperial guides them out to wait near his partner. He even gives a look of disappointment for himself when placing the shackle on Rhonin. To have to condemn someone so young to a life of imprisonment or death does not rest easy on his consciousness. With the group all in binds, the guard seals the cell door with his key.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he tells them with his back to them. "Let's move!"

Without any resistance, the group follows behind the leading soldier. His partner stays behind them for security protocol. As they traverse the barren prison, Rhonin and Arius peek at each passing jail room. In many of those areas, skeletons of previous criminals with tattered rags remain. The disturbing thought of people being locked up, and left in the shadows to obscure their memory troubles the younger mages'. Kressmer is unfazed by this, as though this is not his first time laying eyes on such a sight.

By the time they reach the end of the hall, they stand stiffly silent in front of the iron exit. The leading soldier gently pulls it open and moves on. The group moves forward, the Imperial in the back doesn't bother to shut the door. No one else was there. There was no point he thought to himself. No longer do they stand in a dusty, brick corridor, but a massive chamber of smooth stone and well-crafted decor littering the walls and glass ceiling. While not very bright, at last, they finally see the clear evening sky.

After walking for some time, they find themselves standing in front of a giant wooden gate. At each corner of it, two more city guards with spears stand defensively.

"We have the prisoners," the soldier escort explains.

"Proceed," the guard on the right requests with a tilt of his armored head.

As if practicing this routine several times over, both the posted guardsmen lift their spears. With one hard motion, they slam the bottom, metal ends onto the floor. From the resonance of their bang, the gate opens inward. Just like the old doorways of the Mages Guild Library, they creek as though they were unused for years. What lies beyond the passage is a courtroom, with stands for political members to sit and observe.

At the center is a marble platform illuminated by a skylight reaching high above the audience. In front is a countertop made of the same material. Residing and standing out is a single tall throne against the wall. The shadows of the back room nearly conceal the judges and government officials. The only thing that can be made out is the outlining features of the individuals.

The two escorts guide the mages into the chamber. Their faces are devoid of emotion when passing their comrades, and vice versa. As for Rhonin and Arius, their uncontainable curiosity draws them to the fascination of this new space. As their eyes dash to every spec and cranny of this room, the eyes of the jury and the numerous attendees scowl down at them. Nobels of all races and from every corner of the continent have been summoned to pass their idea of judgment. The mages' don't take these cold stares to heart, and continue forward. Even Kressmer expresses his little care by returning the looks with a more soul-piercing gaze. Some of the royals lean away or freeze in place by it.

More faces and people are revealed to the trio the further they approach. The two guards who brought them, take their stand with the audience as the group moves on. Now standing within the spotlight of the podium, one such feature makes Arius halt. His rapid blinking suggests that what lies before him cannot be true. His whole body trembles and even his breathing is unsteady. Rhonin and Kressmer look to him in bewilderment.

Sitting atop the throne that stands above all others is an older man. His gowns are finely woven and stand out among the other royals' clothing. Unlike the rest of the crowd, he is humble and smiles to the group. He scratches his hairy grey chin as he studies the mages' from afar. Standing below him is another Thalmor agent. His proud posture and condescending look make his high status all the more evident. Even when in the presence of this esteemed man, his arrogance blinds him from understanding his place.

"Kneel, now," Arius urgently whispers to the others while trying to pull Rhonin's shoulders down.

Without so much as a question, both Rhonin Mathys and Kressmer Midium do so. The two younger mages' drop to their knees and lean their heads downward. The Dunmer gently imitates but is far less hasty.

"What's going on?" Rhonin questions quietly.

"It's the emperor, Emperor Titus Mede II," Arius replies, now with his face dripping anxiously in sweat.

The very mention of his name afflicts Rhonin with the same awe and intimidation. The immense emotional weight prevents him from even peeking up at the royal figure. This worry is brushed away by Kressmer's composed and mature nature. He is unfazed by this gracious appearance.

"Rise for the Emperor, Titus Mede II!" A knight off to the side projects when taking his place next to the lord of the Empire.

As demanded, the crowd brings themselves out of their seats. In a wave from the right of the room, the audience bows to their ruler. None are daring enough to make a sound or even whisper in their majesty's presence. As the entire room pay praise to Titus Mede, the Emperor lifts his slender hand to them in greetings. Coincidentally as he brings his hand down, so to do the other royals plant themselves back to their chairs. As they do, the mages' push themselves back onto their feet.

The broad and muscular Nord who spoke earlier now steps forward. His shiny steel armor reflects what light remains from outside. Whatever skin he decided to expose is stained with tattoos and markings of his homeland. Even his thick-bearded face has scars and war paint smothering over him.

"Arius Silver, Rhonin Mathys, and Kressmer Midium," he addresses them. "You stand accused of conspiring against the Empire, of endangering the lives of the people of Cydrodiil, and meddling with powerful, unfathomable forces!"

"Uh, general," Arius speaks up. "I assure you, that there is a misunderstanding-"

"I did NOT give you consent to speak!" The Nord bluntly replies. "Your name means little to me, Silver, all I see is a boy pretending to be a man!"

The insult takes Arius back. His throat closes as he stands in silence to the daunting Nord's words and firm tone. Even Rhonin gasps with his heart skipping a beat at the menacing comment.

"By Shor, you best not interrupt your superiors again!" The general threatens with a scowl and clenching the handle of his sword.

"Now, now, let's try to keep our civility in order," Titus attempts to quell his right hand's anger.

The Emperor's calm authority is more than enough. Within a handful of seconds, whatever severity was in the Nord's voice and mind is all but terminated. The general sighs and refrains from acting out towards his lord.

"Apologies, your majesty," he speaks with a tilt of his head.

"For those of you who wonder," Titus begins to address his allies when looking to them. "Given how my great city and nation is in grave distress, I felt obligated to attend this session and aid my people as their ruler and as a proper son of the Empire!"

The soft-spoken voice of the Emperor even eases the hearts of the mages'. Their eyes are directed to the elder royal as he glances down at them with a smile.

"Perhaps, one of you can explain what occurred?" He kindly requests.

At first, a proper explanation seems to be very mind riddling. The three glance at one another to see if either one is willing to step forward. Arius shrugs his shoulders in discomfort for being put in the unwanted spotlight. Even Kressmer quietly scuffs over the complications of either lying or telling the overly complex truth. Rhonin seeing both his friends in distress accepts the inevitable. Closing his sight and clearing his mind, he inhales deeply to quell his anxious nerves. Finally, he takes a single step forward and stares up to the Emperor.

"Emperor Titus Mede," he politely greets. "In all of the time that my friends and I have been in this city, not once did we ever have ill intentions."

The Imperial lord in his optimism leans to hear out the young mage's words. The Nord General is also willing to be open minded with Rhonin's plea. It is only when the Breton speaks that the crowd decides to whisper among themselves on their biased opinions. Rhonin remains undeterred despite already suspecting what the hushed comments are.

"What we desire is to help people who aren't fortunate enough to use magic," he explains aloud.

"So you create a storm that plagued the entire Imperial land?" The Thalmor agent spouts.

The accusation causes a minor eruption of words and discussions to echo across the chamber. Defensive for Mathys, Kressmer glares at the High Elf. However, Arius hurriedly places his cuffed hands onto the Dunmer before he can act.

"That was an accident," Rhonin claims without hostility.

"As it always is for those who cannot grasp the Arcane arts properly," the high elf mocks.

Before the tension and loud conversations in the room go awry, the Emperor once more raises a deaf hand. From this minor gesture, the chamber once more becomes devoid of voices. The egotistical Thalmor as well ends his forceful interrogation.

"That's enough," Titus requests. "Let him finish."

With a full understanding of his position in the court, the High Elf holds his tongue. Without any further abrupt comments, he mopes with his arms crossed. Finding comfort in Titus Mede's generosity, Kressmer also settles down.

"Thank you," Rhonin says with a quick bow to the Emperor. "I understand why many would be fearful or prejudice of my group, but I assure you that the actions we have taken were for the benefit of all of Tamriel and the Empire! What we did was-"

Before anything else can be spoken, the same creaking noise of an old door is heard. This time, from a side entrance to the left side of the throne. Two more guards have entered, accompanying them is three hooded figures. The leaders of the Mages Guild have arrived to investigate the situation.

"My lord, I've brought the representatives of the Synod, College of Whispers, and of Winterhold as requested," one of the soldiers' delivers.

Rhonin's group turns to their mentors puzzled by the sudden and unannounced appearance. Behind them, the nobles pass a few words to one another by the surprise guests. Yet, this would not be the only unforeseen event to occur. The shortest of the members freeze in place. A gasp is heard from her, leading the group to stop and look at her. Her hands tremble as she looks at the ground.

"Mam?" Tolfdir, the master mage of the College of Winterhold says to her.

This overwhelming sensation that has struck her proves too much. Her body gives way to the unknown force. The third member is thankfully behind her to catch her. Plummeting into his arms and chest, her hood slips off. Underneath the cowl is an elderly Wood Elf with eyes devoid of color from a past injury. The female representative of the Whispering college is shaken by what she feels.

"My lady, what troubles you?" Tolfdir questions rubbing her right hand to bring comfort.

"Great power," she claims with little breath behind her words. "Unlike anything I've ever felt before..."

With what strength she can use, she raises her wrinkly, wavering hand up. Even her fingers twitch and shake as she lifts her palm into the air. Those nearby follow her movements to spot what she is focusing on. During this, the crowd is very active toward her condition and reaction. Once at the right height, and as balanced as she can make it, the female Archmage clenches all but her index finger and thumb. Which is now directed to Rhonin and his friends.

"It comes from the boy," she states.

The court is now loud with panic and confusion. The royals and jury speak aloud with no restraint for being modest in Titus's presence. The guards especially take to act drastic and urgent in this chaotic situation. Each one either directs their spears to the three mages', or grasps the handles of their swords. Rhonin and his friends swiftly alter their sights to different parts of the room. Even the Emperors voice and gestures go unnoticed to all who are attending the trial.

The Nord general takes great offense to the immaturity of the nobles. Acting quickly, he rushes to the nearest spearman. Before the soldier can make any other actions, his superior officer rips his lance from his hands. Initially catching him by surprise, but calming him the moment he acknowledges the large Nord. Returning to the center of the room, Titus's right hand with all his might slams the bottom end of the spear onto the ground.

"Enough!" He demands with his voice booming to the court.

The pounding of steel and stone, followed by an ear straining ringing stuns the entire room. All but the Nord, the Emperor, and the Thalmor agent are fazed by this action. Most if not all who are within the room cusp their heads and ears.

"You will behave yourselves in his majesty's company!" The general orders. "As for you boy, explain yourself!"

The banging reverberance of his voice ceases, allowing the audience and the group comfort and clear thinking. All sit and gaze silently with a keen interest in what Rhonin will say. The young mage, being overwhelmed by the many eyes set on him, turns to his group. The stress for being modest and patient weighs on Arius and Kressmer. Doom awaits them should they try to hide the truth any longer. The Imperial sighs and looks down admitting defeat. Giving consent for Rhonin to profess, the Dunmer gives a regretful nod with an exhale from his nostrils.

"Please do not make this harder than it has to be," Titus requests.

The calm, kind tone in the Emperor's voice is the last needed boost of assurance. Rhonin just as collected directs himself to the throne. Even as the two connect their focus on one another, Rhonin is able to remain clear of mind.

"On that day, we awoke a power beyond mortal potential," he explains. "And from that divine essence, we made this..."

With his hands shackled, he steadily reaching for his chest as to not provoke any hostility. While the Nord general is at unease with this action, he does not sense any risk of danger. Regardless, his hold on the spear remains for safety. The Thalmor agent takes a step closer, his lips are slightly open in anticipation. The Mages Guild representatives as well patiently wait for answers. Only using his fingers, Rhonin slips into his chest pocket.

Once retrieving the relic within, he holds it in his palms. Once more, even without looking upon it, the ring's whispers begin to reach out to him. However, this crucial moment proves to overcome his daze. Moving just as smoothly, he lays his hands out onto the desk in front of him. At last, he brings himself to rest the magical item down. Out of concern for how they may react to his creation, he pauses in place.

Will they be fearful of it? Angered by its devastating capabilities and looks? Or will they praise it and the three for their hard work? He could not say nor predict. One way or another he will know, better to be compliant than endanger himself and his friends. With only a step back, the court and all its guests are presented with an artifact of legendary quality.

As when it was first brought into creation, the Ebony Ring makes its presence known. While only Rhonin and his friends can hear the humming, a weight has been dropped on all who gaze at the black, metal circle. No longer is it just the elder mages' who can sense it, now the courtroom share in the unbearable feeling. As speculated in the Breton's mind, most of the people tremble at just the sight of it and its daedric markings. Once again, rambling among the royals arises.

"There, that is the power I sensed!" the envoy for the College of Whispers claims.

"What is that?" The High Elf questions with a fascinated smile.

"We don't have a proper name for it, yet," Rhonin says. "At this time, we call it the Ebony Ring."

The mention of its name sparks interest in the nobles. While most of their sentences cannot be clearly made out, the name of the artifact is heard repeatedly. Again, the general slams his spear down, but not nearly as hard as before. His imposing action quiets the room down to a whisper.

"What is the purpose of this ring?" Titus Mede asks with his fingertips pressed against one another.

"Originally it was meant to possess every known enchantment," Rhonin answers. "But something went wrong, all we can say for certain is that the ring enhances its wearer in every aspect to a considerable degree."

"The explosion of light I take it?" Titus suggests. "In any case, why would your leaders provide you with the resources to create an uncontrollable power source?"

The Emperor turns his head to the Mages Guild diplomats remaining in the same position. Many of the royals turn themselves to the elders, as well as the Nord officer and High Elf ambassador.

"We assure you, your majesty, that we had no knowledge of this experiment!" the Synod Elder speaks. "We would have never condoned such rash and destructive activities!"

"How else could they have crafted such a complex, and powerful item?" Titus questions.

"I believe I may be able to explain," a voice in the crowd speaks up.

At the front corner of the stands, an older soldier rises. This man imparticular wares leather garbs that Rhonin doesn't recognize. However, this gold rimmed, unique battle attire is all too familiar with Arius Silver. The Imperial gasps as he lays his eyes on the tan legionnaire.

"Ah, General Tullius," the Emperor points out in a positive tone. "Good to see that you were able to make it."

"Of course my lord," Tullius replies with a bow. "The information I have is of grave importance."  
While Rhonin and Kressmer look in puzzlement for who he is, Arius knows the risk of his presence. The knowledge that he brings from Skyrim could put the three at high risk.

"You see, a few weeks ago, in the Dwarven city of Markarth, the prisoners at Cihdne Mine uncovered something." As Tullius paces side to side in front of the nobles, he presents his evidence. "What they found had enough power to create unnatural earthquakes and tremors through the city. After many hours of digging and excavating, it was revealed that what caused the phenomenon was a soul gem."

The preposterous notion spreads disbelief across the courtroom, with only the trio believing him at first. Incoherent words are passed around, making Titus hurriedly raise his hand to quiet them. As the crowd hushes, the Imperial general proceeds.

"This stone proved too large to carry out of the mine, leaving the Jarl of the city to send his court wizard to the mine," the general continues. "They called it the Antella, based off the similar gem that Tiber Septim possessed during his reign."

"I am aware of the Mantella," the Emperor recalls. "What does this have to do with the Ebony Ring?"

"By what I've been told, Cyrodiil was plagued with an awful storm not long ago," Tullius reminds the court. "The same event also occurred in Markarth when the wizard was experimenting with the stone."

Pointing out these connections begins to weigh down onto Rhonin's team. Both Rhonin and Arius stress over what may happen if all the pieces and clues of their involvement are put together. Kressmer squints his eyes in irritation for the obvious conclusion.

"These harsh winds and fall of rain came from the stone," Tulius explains. "And it so happens that it was recently stolen. Around the same time that the Imperial capital fell victim to the same forces of nature..."

The minds of the jury and of the royals have been made. By their worrisome, hateful expressions and tones, their view of the mages' is guilty.

"Preposterous!" The Thalmor agent speaks out underestimating their capabilities. "How could these three novices' have taken the stone without being caught and bring it to the city within a day?"

"We weren't sure at first either," the Imperial general admits. "That is until I was able to reach the mage tower."

With a click of his fingers, an Imperial scout rushes to his side. With a satchel on his waist, the man retrieves a chared book within. Most of its pages are burnt, and even the cover cannot be read or described correctly. Still, some of its contents appear intact. Being just as quick when passing it to his chief, the ranger sprints back to his seat.

"This was found within the observatory of the building!" Tulius claims, raising the tome high for all to see. "While most of it was damaged in the blast, what does remain is notes! One of these pages in particular mentions opening a rift through the realm of Oblivion!"

The mention of the dark realm beyond Tamriel strikes dread into the minds of all who are present. Discluding Kressmer and his friends, Titus Mede, and his two close hand allies. Most are just as silent as the dead, with only gasps and heavy breathing remaining as the only sound in the chamber.

"A series of markings and runes depict the spell needed to open this gate," Tullius points out. "I share this with you now, because those exact sigils were found in place of the Antella!"

The revelation of this proof causes an uproar in the room. The light of truth hangs over Arius and the others. Their secret has been laid to bare, and the guilt of being caught pokes in the back of their heads. The many shocked and surprised glares enforce discomfort onto them, even the High Elf's scowls aren't assuring. Thankfully, the Emperor's subtle action is still enough to quell the stunning reactions of the chamber. As all turn quiet, Titus looks down onto Rhonin with his calm demeanor.

"You stole the Antella?" He asks, already knowing the answer. "Committed a heinous crime not only to the people of Markarth, but to Skyrim, and the Empire itself?"

"It's not what you think," a nervous Rhonin attempts to explain.

"There isn't much left to the imagination, boy," the Thalmor speaks in disdain. "You betrayed your people and your lords for power."

"What we did was save countless innocence!" Arius shouts in anger towards the rude High Elf.  
His sudden outburst startles the haughty elf. His interruption and loud tone come off as insulting to him. He glares at the Imperial for his actions, which the nobles express in the same way.

"If the Soul Gem had stayed in Skyrim, it would have been used for war!" Arius claims. "Either the Stormcloaks would have used it to fuel their rebellion and enforce their old ways, or-"

Before he takes his assumptions too far, he turns away to stop his rant. An inhale of agitation can be heard from his nose. This random halt in his speech sparks interest from the High Elf. Taking a step closer, he goes on to pester him more.

"Or what?" He asks anticipating a needed answer.

"Or the Thalmor would abuse its power for their own selfish end!" Arius distastefully spews.

His hateful assumption brings out the disgust in the Altmer agent. Even the members of the trial are offensive by this wild accusation. They point and mutter when gazing down at the savage tongued Imperial.

"Why you-" The Altmer is about to lash out.

Just as he is about to let his anger best his civility, the Emperor barges into the debate.

"That's enough," he orders lifting his hand to the Altmer.

Unable to speak against the judgment of Titus Mede, the High Elf does as he wishes. Returning to his place beside the throne, the Thalmor turns his head in defeat. As the room and all who are present settle down, the Emperor continues.

"No matter what your intentions were, to break the Empires laws and to threaten the lives of its people is not something we can easily forgive," Titus explains.

"Besides, what good does this ring do, if no one knows for certain what its full capabilities are?"

"Indeed," the elderly woman of Whispers comments. All who could hear her shaky tone direct their focus to her. "While I sense tremendous power from the Ebony Ring, I can only feel a portion of it at work... As though most of it is locked away, untapped."

This abnormal quality with such a mighty object boggles the minds of everyone in the courtroom. Even Rhonin and Arius were oblivious to this detail. Despite the confusion floating in the room like a foul aroma, no one replies or speaks over this discovery.

"In fact, there is something else," she comments.

Bending her hand back and directing her palm towards the ring, faint blue energy surfaces from her wrinkly limb. As she does so, the Ebony Ring begins to react to this invasion. Like a beacon on a black beach, the item glows and vibrates before their eyes. The audience stands from their seats to get a closer look. No longer is the circle dormant in its quietness, now the spine-tingling whispers reach every corner of the room. Many are pale in the face by this white noise. This radical behavior in the ring gives the younger mages a reason to fret.

Suddenly, another unforeseeable force negates the Whispering mage's spell. All is calm, with none willing to say or do anything, out of worry for what the ring may do.

"I felt it, for a moment I could see it," the Whispering College's envoy comments. Repeating from before, she points her wobbly finger at the relic. "A dark entity of Oblivion has placed its mark on that ring..."

The thought of the beings within the Daedric realms having such influence causes panic in the crowd. Each person except for the mages, the Emperor, and his close advisors, chatter over one another. The nobles' panicking and displeasing tones overshadow Titus Mede himself. Even Rhonin's group is troubled by this startling discovery.

"This can't be possible," Rhonin says overwhelmed with disbelief.

While Arius is also dumbfounded with Rhonin, Kressmer's expression becomes stern and cold by this information. His head hangs down to cover his face.

"It would seem that these simple students are meddlers of the dark arts," the High Elf comments. "My lord, I suggest allowing my associates to deal with this dark artifact. They're very wise scholars of magic, and will be able to ensure no one would ever misuse it."

"Very well," Titus Mede allows with a wave. "General Tullius, bring him the ring."

"As you wish," the Imperial replies with a bow.

"As for you three. For your crimes against the Empire, the people of Skyrim, and for communing with Daedric forces, you will be sentenced to a lifetime in prison. Never to see the light of day again."

The heart-sinking sentence nearly makes Arius's knees cave. Even Rhonin feels his heart stop for a moment out of fear.

"Wait!" Rhonin pleads. "I am the one who came up with the idea, brought the ingredients together. I'm the one responsible for the ring's creation, leave them out of this!"

While his intentions to take the blame is flattering to Kressmer, Arius is unpleased. The Imperial squints distastefully believing he is trying to steal the credit. Even so, the Breton's words are ignored by the Emperor and the others. As Tullius approaches, the three watch as he slips the ring into his grasp. As he heads off, a concerning thought comes to Midium's mind.

"We can't allow the Thalmor to possess the ring," Kressmer whispers looking to Mathys. "Rhonin, do you know Telekinesis?"

"I-I've tried it," the turmoil for the situation and the sudden statement makes his response stuttery and quiet. "But I've never had enough Magicka."

With only seconds to spare, Kressmer clamps his eyes closed. In a single moment, their cuffs become transparent. With their backs to the crowd and their hands shielded by the stand in front of them, none are able to notice this except for the trio. Without warning, Kressmer locks his grip onto the young Breton. A sudden surge of pale blue energy courses through Rhonin by this connection.

"You do now," Kressmer comments.

With only a foot gap between Tullius and the Atlmer, Rhonin raises his hand to the general. Orange, spiraling lights form around Mathys's fingers and converge into his palm. At his command, the ring forces its way out of the general's grasp. As the Ebony Ring sours through the air, the nearby guards draw their blades. As though time has slowed down, this swift moment in their eyes feels like minutes. The race for the ring strives all who want it to move at the group.

The one thing that remains constant is the powerful relic's call to its makers. Just like before, the ring's whisper can be heard, drawing everyone like bait on a hook. With time only giving them a fraction of a moment to act, Kressmer reaches for the ring in mid-air. The moment his fingers wrap around it, he swings his fist into the air.

"Now!" Kressmer shouts out.

As his hand hangs above them, a think mist envelops the three. As wild as a powerful blizzard storm, a gust of heavy fog sprays in all directions. The power of this blast stuns everyone in the room. The guards halt in place to block the burst of Magicka, as well as the nobles who have been knocked back into their seats. As the high winds recede, what lies in the mages' place is unclamped shackles.

Surrounding all of the royals and members of the court, is gray, hooded figures. In this threatening moment, the soldiers instinctively strike at each humanoid shape near them. Yet, with each strike, the masses of fog disperse upon contact with their weapons. Urgently searching for the real culprits, the legionnaires continue to attack each figure. In the end, their attempts were futile.

With enough shades disposed of, the fog in the room fades. Before their eyes, Rhonin, Kressmer, and Arius have vanished without a trace. With all of the doors into the chamber open, no one can say for sure where they have fled.

"Find them, FIND THEM!" The Thalmor agent orders the soldiers with a swing of his hand.

Every able legionnaire splits off into different exits. Even the nobles begin to take their leave, having no further business in the court. The only few that remain are the Emperor, the Altmer, Nord, Tullius, and the Archmages of the Mages Guild. Titus Mede in a state of exhaustion from the chaotic session lies back in his seat. With his hand covering his eyes, he addresses the final elephant in the room.

"I had feared the world was not ready to be open to the arcane arts," he regretfully mentions. "You were right Tolfdir, now is not the time for the Mages Guild to be reestablished."

The other Archmages turn to the elder Nord, glaring for what they believe is an act of betrayal. Tolfdir sensing the stares takes a few steps away.

"The moment the Synod and College of Whispers sought power for their own gain, was the moment they became corrupted by it," Tolfdir claims. "Good thing Winterhold was onto this hungry thorn in the side."

"Wise words indeed," Titus mentions. "Then I declare that on this day, the Mages Guild be disbanded."


	13. A New Quest

Chapter 13: A New Quest

Night has set on the Imperial capital, but still booms with voices. The Empire in a state of urgency searches every corner of the city in search of Rhonin and his group. The citizens have been advised to stay indoors and to not let any enter. Closing their wooden shutters, and locking their doors, the only lights that remain are the torches of sprinting soldiers. Commotion is heard on every street and flashes of red flicker throughout the capital.

"Keep looking!" A higher ranked Legionnaire orders. "They couldn't have escaped the city!"

As a group of Imperial's rush away, down a dark ally way, a set of transparent figures stand. With no eyes set on them, the three reveal themselves. Rhonin, Kressmer, and Arius now hide off to the side until a clear path presents itself. Right as Kressmer cancels his spell, the two younger mages look to him questioningly.

"How did you do that?" Arius quietly asks. "I didn't even see you put the ring on, and yet you were able to dispell our bonds and create that illusion."

The Dunmer looks to his hand still as calm as can be. As he loosens his grasp, the light spewing mist still bleeds from the Ebony Ring. As though understanding the situation to be dire, the whispers from the relic cease, for now.

"It would seem the ring does far more than just enhance one's physical capabilities," Kressmer replies. "Just holding it amplifies ones spiritual and mental skills as well."

"I don't think it matters anymore," Rhonin claims when shaking his head.

"Of course it does," Arius says. "Especially when someone decides to steal the credit for making it!"

With Arius becoming hostile, and Rhonin being submissive to the harsh tone, Kressmer steps in. With his hands in between them, he gently pushes them apart.

"That is not important right now," he tells them. "Rather Rhonin was trying to boast or make an attempt to save us, it doesn't matter. Our main concern is getting out of the city."

He lowers the hand that's against Arius's chest, with the other, holds it out to Rhonin. As the young Breton raises his palm, Kressmer drops the Ebony Ring onto his hand. As the Dunmer and Imperial keep their eyes directed at the streets, Rhonin's are set on the ring.

"I'm so sorry to have dragged you guys into this," he tells them in a hushed tone. "All of this turmoil, just because of a ring..."

An immediate feeling of guilt strikes Arius in the heart. He lowers his head while exhaling a breath of regret.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he tells him without turning back to him.

"To those of corruption and greed, power brings out their hidden desires," Kressmer adds turning to the younger mages'. "For the races of Mer, this flaw is common."

For a split moment, the group looks to one another. Each one bears a different, negative expression towards the outcome of their quest. With Rhonin showing grief, Arius having slight anger, and Kressmer with a serious look, the three accept their new fates.

"This ring was meant to be used for good," Rhonin says looking back to it.

"It still can," Kressmer comments. "It all depends on how we use it from here on."

"The Empire will stop at nothing to get a hold of it," Arius adds. "We need to leave Cyrodiil, and I know exactly where we need to go."

Piquing their interest, the Dunmer and Breton look to Silver curiously. However, they would not be given an immediate answer. Due to the amount of time spent with their guard lowered, they have not taken notice to the pair of eyes on them.

"Hey," a familiar voice whispers to them.

Arius and Rhonin tense at the unexpected sound. The three instantly turn their heads to the source. Standing at the end of the ally where the soldiers had passed not long ago is Enthir and Mirabelle. The two are in black and dark blue hoods, but having their faces be only visible to the three. At the sight of the duo, Rhonin with haste hides the ring back into his chest pocket.

"Come on," Enthir demands frantically gesturing for them to follow.

While Kressmer is mildly curious over this immediate aid, the younger mages are incredibly confused.

"Hurry," the Wood Elf comments again.

A decision had to be made for the trio. Acting in synch, the group looks to one another. Could they trust their old fellow Mages? With little to no time and options, Rhonin's group comes to a quick agreement. Looking back to Enthir and Mirabelle, they quietly sprint to them. As they unite, the five now sneak their way across the city.

"I don't know what you guys did, but now the whole city is in chaos," Enthir comments at a hushed tone.

While leading the group, Enthir holds his hand up to stop them. As they all halt in place, their eyes focus on the group of soldiers in the distance. While the mages' may have a wall shielding them and a far distance to their advantage, the legionnaires block their path.

"Now we got city guards around every blasted corner," Enthir points out. "What to do, what to do?"

"Kressmer, can't you just make us invisible again?" Arius questions.

"It was already tiring, to try and pull it off again could compromise us," the Dunmer clarifies. "But there is something I can do..."

As the group stands in silence, Kressmer takes up the challenge of clearing the way. Peaking his head next to Enthir's, the Dunmer makes a soft wave with his fingers. As a thin vapor of Magicka leaves his fingertips, from a distance, he calls upon a spell. Pass the guards location, but just close to hear, the same flash of energy flickers. While they do not see it, their ears catch the sound whispers.

"What was that?" One of the soldiers asks.

"Let's check it out!" Another pushes to investigate.

As the small militia vacate the area, the mages' can move on. Continuing behind Enthir, the five of them rush as fast as they can across each sector of the city. With every impasse, the group utilizes their Magical talents to slip their way through. Next, the five find themselves with more Imperial's standing in their way. This time, Arius takes the spotlight. As a flicker of violet energy blinks in his hand, a creature from beyond the realm is brought forth. Far from the group, but close to the guards a spectral wolf stands before them. As the soldiers draw their blades in a panic, the beast sprints away. Like fish to a lure, the guardsmen chase after, allowing the mages to press on.

As Rhonin and the others race to reach safety, an unexpected circumstance corners them. Taking a wrong turn, the wizards rush right into a dead end made of stone from a wall and wood from the buildings in between them. Before they can turn back, several voices of soldiers charging to their position heads their way.

"What are we going to do?" Mirabelle asks taking a step back with the rest of the group.

As they all stand to ponder different ways of escape, the Ebony Ring becomes active. Only for Rhonin does the daedric artifact make its voice heard. He reaches into his pocket and holds it in his hand. Rhonin Mathys, with just seconds to spare, a swift yet risky action plays out in his mind. As the commotion of the guards rapidly approaches, the young Breton slides the ring onto his finger. Standing in front of the others, Rhonin enacts his own unique spell. As he casts his magic, the natural green energy that pours from his hands, shifts to white and Asure blue. Directing his hand out, this power forms and hardens before their eyes. In an instant without creating any sound, an ethereal wall matching the one behind them forms in front of Rhonin and connects with the buildings.

On their side, it is clear as glass, but on the opposite side, dense as stone. The five can only stare in awe at the unbelievable weaving of spellwork. Right as nearly a dozen guards arrive on the other side of the barrier, it becomes clear to the mages' that only they can see through it.

"I thought I saw something," one of the soldiers says.

"Clearly not," his superior comments. "Keep searching!"

As ordered, the soldiers split off in separate directions urgently. Within seconds, the soldiers vanish into the thick darkness of the city. With the area being clear, Rhonin drops to one knee as the wall disappears. Fabricating the thick stone foundation from nothing has drained Rhonin of his Magicka. Kressmer and Arius with concern for his well being kneel to each side of him. Enthir and Mirabelle are frozen in astonishment when staring at the three of them. The Wood Elf specifically, has his eyes set on one thing.

"What is that?" He asks pointing at the Ebony Ring.

Rhonin, Kressmer, and Arius turn their heads back towards Enthir. Only for their focus to be drawn right back to the ring due to his pointing. The mind tethering allure of the object calls to those near it once more. This time, its whispers and bleeding energy send shivers of concern down the group's spine.

"A beacon of chaos," Rhonin replies softly.

"How much you want for that?" Enthir asks.

"Sorry, the cursed object is not for sale," Kressmer lies to him when rising from the floor.

As the two help Rhonin back onto his feet, Enthir and Mirabelle continue to focus their eyes on the object in confusion of its nature.

"Which makes me wonder, how did you do that?" Arius questions with his eyes bright open. "Was that your Alteration magic?"

"Alteration consists of changing what already exists," Kressmer informs. "With the power enhancement of the ring, Rhonin was able to fabricate a wall out of nothing."

"But it took a lot out of me," he whispers with little air in his chest. "Don't worry, I can still keep up."

Although the others nod to show they're ready to move, Enthir is still dozing at the Ebony Ring. Kressmer and Mirabelle look at him when taking notice of his behavior. Being closest to him, she pats the Wood Elf on the shoulder. With a shake of his head, Enthir glances to the female Breton before he dips his head in agreement. Once again he marches ahead of them, with the group following after.

With luck on their side, they proceed to sneak through the shadows of the city without detection. Like before, Enthir leads the three to an isolated, desolate section of the Imperial capital. These old ruins that have long since been left barren bears the rust, and aged damage of the past. Some of the stone decorations and foundations are cracked and chipped from decades of neglect. Once arriving at this barren location, everyone except for Enthir and Mirabelle halts at the center of the area. The Wood Elf and female Breton scramble around the place, looking for something particular.

The two run their hands on every corner and cranny of the old town quarter. Both are on opposite ends of the courtyard when searching. Rhonin and the others stand and watch while they do this, unsure what else can be done.

"Here it is," Enthir says to himself when pulling down on a metal torch holder.

Just as the trio had infiltrated the secret passage to the Mages Guild Library, the same mechanical noises are heard. The floor shakes beneath them, and the sound of turning gears extends to them. As they all look to see what has been activated, the far off tomb is what pulls the groups' focus. The single, stone coffin within it trembles as it is pulled backward by the mechanism beneath it. They all step toward it as a secret passage opens beneath the tomb.

"This secret hatch was used in the case the city needed to be evacuated," Enthir explains. "Nowadays thieves use it as an easy getaway after a heist. It should take you outside the city."

"Why show us this?" Rhonin questions." Why are you helping us?"

Both Enthir and Mirabelle are quiet when the anticipated question is mentioned. Kressmer and Arius look to their ex-guild members with the same look of uncertain curiosity.

"For one, you lot have been the best customers I've had here," Enthir admits when turning to Rhonin. "Two, you remind me of a friend I once had." Enthir lastly glances over to Kressmer for his final input. "You just tag along with these two, so..."

"Fair enough," the Dunmer replies.

"Thank you," Rhonin says with a quick bow of his head.

"You three best be off," Mirabelle states looking pass the walls that surround the ruins. Moving lights from the soldiers illuminate the buildings passed the border. "I hope whatever's going on was worth all of this." She looks back to Rhonin, who returns the glance with an expression of self-pity.

"It will, in time," Kressmer assures.

Rhonin finds comfort in the Dunmers unusual optimism. With one more bow of appreciation, Arius, Kressmer, and Rhonin make their way down into the catacombs. Pulling down onto the lantern once more, Enthir and Mirabelle watch as the three vanish into the darkness with the coffin closing behind them.

"What will you do now?" Mirabelle looks at the Wood Elf when asking.

"I've made quite a lump sum of gold from those three," he replies. "I think I've healed enough from losing that friend I mentioned. I believe it's time that I make my way back to Skyrim."

They walk together out of the courtyard, as they do the torch lights from the soldiers begins to fade.

"Well, isn't that a coincidence," she comments with a smile. "It just so happens, that before you found me, Tolfdir offered me a place at the College of Winterhold."  
Enthir nods in slight interest but continues looking forward. As they leave the ruins, the once roaming soldiers appear to have vacated the area. Calmly the two make their way through the city.

"Quite the coincidence indeed," he agrees. "I guess I'll be seeing you two in the frozen land of the Nords."

With their interests correlating, the two split off into different sectors of the city. With both of them vanishing into the night, the city guards are none the wiser to what had transpired on their search. The wild hunt for the rogue wizards will continue throughout the night, not knowing that their efforts are in vain.

What felt like hours within the barren caverns of the old escape route has finally paid off. Beyond the walls of the Imperial Capital, and farther than any archer could spot, Rhonin and the others have escaped. From an old, age-damaged hatch in the middle of the wilderness, the trio emerges. Kressmer is the first to exit, lending his hand to the younger mages to lead them out. When looking around, the first notable detail is the bright city. Even when miles away, it still stands out in the dark blanket of night.

As Rhonin stares at the White-Gold Tower, a series of worrying questions comes to mind. What is he going to do now, better yet, what are they going to do now? How long will they need to run, and what must be done with the Ebony Ring? Merely thinking of the daedric artifact somehow makes it active. Still placed on his pointer finger, the whispers and faint glow return. As he lifts his hand to look closer at it, Kressmer and Arius spot this motion.

"We made our choice, Rhonin," Kressmer comments placing his hand on the Bretons shoulder. "What we do from this point on, is what matters most."

Arius stands off to the side, his gaze focusing on the Ebony Ring as it's humming resonates to him. Even though the enticing lure of the ring grasps his attention, his trance is only brief. After a few seconds, the Dunmers words are finally registered in his mind. He comes too after quickly shaking his head.

"He's right," Arius comments stepping toward them. "There's nothing wrong with the ring, it's the empire and the Thalmor that are blinded by greed..." As he stands next to them, the group looks to one another. Kressmer raises a single eyebrow at the comment, given how negative Arius was before. As for Rhonin, his low spirit is slightly lifted by the compliment. "No matter what happens, we're in this together."

"Indeed," Kressmer adds taking his hand off the Breton's shoulder. "You said you had an idea of where we could be safe, so where to?"

"For you two it is a new land, for me, it is home," Arius replies. "Let's go to Skyrim, where the clutches of the Empire have been looser recently."

"For three skilled mages, slipping past the border will be effortless," the Dunmer says.

Kressmer, placing his arms behind him, he gives a small smirk as his way of accepting the option. Rhonin, while hesitant does not provide an immediate response. Before he can make up his mind, he glances at the Ebony Ring once more. Would it be safe to bring the ring to a land of civil war, or remain in Cyrodiil? With the war as a cover to hide them, it does not take long for him to make up his mind.  
Slipping the ring off his finger, the innocent cheeriness in the Breton returns.

"So long as I have you guys with me, I'll venture to any new, dangerous land," Rhonin comments with a smile.

"That's what I like to hear," Arius replies patting Rhonin on the arm. "Until we can find a true purpose for us and the ring, our quest isn't over yet. It's only just beginning..."

With their hearts set on a new, unified path, the group makes their way to the arctic land of the Nords. Despite what little they now possess, they take on this journey wholeheartedly. From this day on, the trio would carry an infamous title branded to them by the people of Tamriel. The Ebony Bound would be a name that would spread across the realm and even beyond. As well as the name of the famed relic they carry and have sworn to protect.


	14. The Hunting Shadow

Chapter 14: The Hunting Shadow

Many days have passed since the Ebony Bound's escape from the Imperial city. Countless rumors have risen and spread across Tamriel as fast as wild winds. Yet, none of those whispers can deter where the mages have gone. Despite the effort of the Empire, the Thalmor, and other factions, no one can locate them. Even those who worship the entities beyond the realm hunt for the trio.

Ever since the world learned of the Ebony Ring's existence, many have ventured to the abandoned tower that was home for the Ebony Bound. In hopes that the secrets to creating another ring may rest there. Time and time have Imperial Legion scared off or fought against these individuals, and still, others continue to find their way to the sanctuary. At this time, a squadron of legion warriors is making their way to the tower. Each one on horseback, moving at a casual pace when approaching the building.

"Captain?" One of the soldiers calls out. "Hasn't the Empire already confiscated the contents from the tower?"

"Of course," The leading Imperial with steel armor answers. "At least what was left of it. Even so, mages can be very subtle with their actions, including hiding any evidence. Which is what's leading so many cultists to this area."

"They're hoping to find something in the ruble?"

"Aye..."

With only a few yards between them and the tower, the captain holds his hand up to halt them. The soldiers stare silently at the chilling sight that is at the entrance. Several corpses of hooded warlocks and their thralls litter the green field at the front door. Fresh blood stains the floor and decorates the stone walls.

"What in Oblivion happened here?" One of the Imperials questions.

"It's like a wild animal tore its way straight through them," another one comments in horror.

"Impossible," the Captain states with unwavering boldness. "There's no way a single beast did this, these warlocks and their servants were too many in number."

"That's because it wasn't an animal," the first soldier says.

The Imperial on the right side of the captain raises his finger to the balcony of the tower. As they all direct their eyes to the top, a moving shadow at the top sparks their interest. Simultaneously, the captain and his soldiers step off their mounts. Moving together and with their hands on their blades, they steadily approach the tower.

Thoroughly searching at the top floor is a single man. His black and blood red attire makes him nearly invisible in the shadows. Even with the clean metal blades on his back and waist, along with the armor plating shielding parts of his body, no light glimmers from him. With his entire body layered in both leather and steel, the only feature that stands out is his hungering, orange glowing eyes. Such a bright glare makes his investigating easy.

While the room has built up a vast amount of dust since being abandoned, beneath it lies the answers, he's looking for. The shriveled tomes he cast aside are of no interest, along with the burnt pages and sketches. What he pays mind too is a simple, dirt covered cup. When lifting it from the floor, he runs his fingers inside it. Even with the leather mask over his face, the hooded figure takes a quick whiff of the scent.

"Deathbell," he recollects. "I know where that can be found."

As his mind ponders the familiar location where the herb grows, the sound of several feet moving up the stairs breaks his concentration. Even though what is coming could be a threat, he still continues with his examination. As he heads over to one of the beds, the Imperial soldiers arrive at the top floor. Their eyes instantly focus on the dark moving individual in the room. While looking at him, the intruder kneels down to the wooden bed. On the side of it is a torn shoulder cape with a wolf image dyed onto it.  
"One of them hails from the city of Solitude," the dark figure concludes recognizing the symbol for Skyrim's capital.

"Halt there," the captain calls out to him. "This is an Imperial crime scene, identify yourself!"

The Imperial's words mean little to the mysterious swordsman. The hooded man continues to ignore their presence as he studies the cloak. With little patience, the leading soldier moves toward him.

"I said this is Imperial property, identify you-"

Once within arms reach of him, the stranger makes his move against the captain. In one swift motion, the swordsman draws his short blade and swings at him. In one clean swipe, he rips through the Imperial's throat without even scraping the enemy's helmet. The officer falls to his knees as he clenches his blood gushing neck. His comrades watch in terror, not just from their commander's death, but from what killed him. The three remaining Imperial's cannot help but become breathless at the monster that stands before them.

Even so, two of the soldiers have a sudden burst of courage to face this threat. Unsheathing their swords, they rush at the assassin. Meeting their challenge, the stranger draws his second sword with his right hand. Duel wielding his crimson handled swords, he charges them. The Imperials and swordsman meet at the center of the room, with both sides unleashing a flurry of swings. Despite their numbers and synched attacks, the shadowy warrior effortlessly counters their attempts at harm.

The last Imperial scout flees, abandoning his allies to deal with the threat. As he rushes down the staircase, his comrades fight on. As swiftly as it began, so too would it end just as brutally. In one fell swoop, the swordsman cleaves one of their legs. As the officer's body caves, he watches as the same blade that ended his captain slices through his own jugular. Now blindly swinging in fear, the other Imperial attacks.

In one swing, the assassin hits the blade from the soldier's grips. Finally, he savagely unleashes a series of slashes across the man's chest. Bloody an beaten, the officer is defenseless against the two swords that rip through his torso and out his back. Faster than the others, the Imperial's life drains from him as he falls back.

As for the final scout, he has just made it downstairs. Fleeing for his life, he sprints to the door. However, right as he shoves the doorway open, the assassin impedes on his escape. Dropping from the ledge, the shadowy figure lands in front of him. As the doors behind him creak shut, the Imperial drips profusely with cold sweat. His body is frozen with the assassin's blood dripping sword lightly held against his neck. He dares not look away from the warrior, out of fear it will mean be the end of him.

The two are silent as they stare at one another. The officer remains idle as the assassin examines him. With his free hand, the swordsman slowly extends his reach to the scout's pouch. Without making any noise, he's able to open it and retrieve the only note within. Unfolding it with his fingers, he lets out a soft growl while reading in his head. The Imperial makes no attempt to escape or fight back during this.

"So it's just as I suspected," the stranger whispers to himself. "The Ebony Bound are heading to Skyrim."

During this prediction, the soldier notices one more detail on the killer's person. On his shoulder plate is a black handprint. Taking a soft gasp of air, the scout remembers what it represents.

"You're, one of them..." He mutters.

The assassin glares at the officer angrily. Before the man can react, the swordsman cuts him down in one swing of his longsword. Blood splatters across the door, mixing with that of what spilled from the warlocks earlier. As the Imperial corpse falls, the Crimson Reaper stands over the body. The sight of so much blood brings out an unnatural hunger in him. His eyes glow brighter as they widen in longing. The sound of the scared horses frees him of his daze. Yet, when staring at the healthy stallions, the look of thirst remains.

After a few minutes, three of the steeds are set free. As they frantically flee, one of them runs slower due to some blood loss from the fang marks in its neck. Placing his mask over his pale, unsaturated face, the assassin approaches the last one. The captain's horse has been tied to a tree. Despite the unsettling circumstances, the stallion is relatively calm. Once unbound to the stump, the Crimson Reaper mounts it. A natural handler of such an animal, he and his ride dash off into the distance. The hunter now knows where to find his prey, leaving bodies behind in his hungry wake.

Discontinued...


End file.
